Obviously Eugene knew when it was his time to shine. He sat up straighter, looked both ways like he was checking for eavesdroppers, and leaned forward across the table. “Okay, so remember I said how Jill was dating a crypto bro and we were all like, ‘girl, stop’? Well….”
Finn barelyheard from Robbie Wednesday night.
He tried not to let that get to him. After all, the more they talked or saw each other, the less discreet the whole thing would get. That didn’t make it easier to feel like he was in the dark about what was happening, but he didn’t want to be the guy who sent fifteen needy texts in a row begging for attention, especially when he’d been a weirdo about liking Robbie in public the day before. He still had his self-respect, damn it.
So he texted his fourteen-year-old stepsister to see what she was up to. Nothing, it turned out, because Sawyer had cancelled on her.
Finn put that alarming news from his mind—he hoped the Zeiger boys were okay—and picked her up for a consolation date. Not that she knew about his own cancelled plans, but teens were good at being the Main Character and she didn’t ask, just accepted his offer to buy ice cream and host a sleepover.
“So, grocery and then my place?” Finn asked when she got into the car.
She regarded him with serious eyes for a long moment, then declared, “I think I need something more distracting. And also violent. Laser tag first?”
His baby sister was a genius.
“You book the tickets, I’ll drive.”
By the time she was painting his toenails bright pink, Finn was almost too tired and full of ice cream to worry about his silent phone. Almost.
At least she helped save him from being a crazy person who sent too many unanswered texts.
He was glad he hadn’t made it all about him when he arrived at the rink Thursday morning and found Robbie in their usual meeting room, looking like a lobotomized raccoon.
Finn raised his eyebrows. “Long night?”
Clutching the largest travel coffee cup Finn had ever seen, Robbie gave him a pathetic look. “What gave it away?”
“Lucky guess.” Finn set his own breakfast—a protein smoothie—on the little table and sank into the chair across from Robbie. “Want to talk about it?”
“I’d like to drink about it,” Robbie grumbled, “but it would be counterproductive. My brother got arrested, so now Sawyer’s parental situation has been brought to the attention of the law. Which would be fine, because I no longer have to hound him for custody. I just have to convince CAS I’m the best option. Except it turns out he also dropped the ball on telling the court my parents shouldnotget visitation rights. Like, he didn’t even tell us a hearing was scheduled. So now Sawyer’s grandparents, who misgender and deadname him, have a visitation date set.”
“Shit.” No wonder Finn hadn’t heard from him last night. “Is Sawyer still with you?”
“Yes, they didn’t see any reason to take him away. But now we’ve got impending social-worker visits, and we’ve got to cross our fingers and hope a family court judge reads our petition for an injunction before Sawyer has to see my genetic donors. Sawyer’s a worrier and he’s… worrying.”
Finn blinked in surprise. “Shit.”
“Yeah. He even cancelled a sleepover with Imogen last night.”
“So I heard. I was the rebound sleepover buddy,” he explained at Robbie’s frown.
“Surprised you weren’t invited in the first place.”
“I was holding out for a different invitation, but I guess, uh—”Shit, keep it professional at work, Finn.“—someone was busy with more important things.”
Robbie grimaced. “But much less pleasant ones.” He leaned forward as if to put his hand over Finn’s, then caught himself and sighed. “Okay. Let me finish downing this heart attack in a cup and we can go do the practice thing. A little physical activity will be good for me.”
Finn guessed Robbie had plenty of practice pushing personal drama out of his mind, because he was dialed in to learn their individual choreography that morning and focused for group rehearsal. He still had occasional trouble with the graceful arm movements required of a dancer, but that was because he had the wingspan of a California condor, and if he got too into it, he would accidentally smack someone in the face. So far it had only happened to Finn once—Stef busted up laughing when it knocked him on his ass—and Emily twice, because the group choreography had them closer together. Finn held out hope he’d smack Chad instead and make it look like an accident, but so far, no dice.
Then the cast broke for lunch. They were off until four, which was the makeup call; Robbie gave Finn a forlorn look but went home to call his lawyer and hopefully have a nap, while Finn parked his ass on the couch in Holly’s office with a book over his face and dozed off for two hours.
Thursday night’s group number went off mostly without a hitch. Finn had to hand it to Stef—the choreography might not be what he’d have put together, but it was fun and the audience loved it. The wardrobe department had a field day putting everyone in circus-inspired costumes. They dressed Chad as a strongman, which he clearly enjoyed, and Robbie as a magician. Emily wore the red jacket with gold trim of a lion tamer, and her partner was her lion.
Finn was pretty sure he was supposed to be an acrobat, with the tight-fitting black leggings and tank top, but maybe he was a tightrope walker?
Either way, he didn’t miss the way Robbie looked at him in it, even if his only comment was a relatively mild “Nice cleavage.”
Finn looked down at his chest hair peeking out from the neck of the top, then glanced over his shoulder at his ass. “Which set?”
