He’d have to be careful how he phrased this, he realized. The last thing he needed was for Gail to put things together and get all awkward with Robbie when they needed to keep their situation under wraps. He might be hurt, but he couldn’t take it out on Robbie.
“I guess I’m, uh, seeing someone,” he said finally. “Someone I really like.”
Gail gave him an encouraging smile. “Finn, that’s wonderful. I’m happy for you, honey.”
He nodded and peered into the tea. He didn’t know if he could watch her heart break for him. “Me too, I just, uh.” He took a deep breath. “It’s complicated? So we can’t exactly…. They can’t….”
Gail’s mug made a soft sound as she set it on the table. A moment later her small, warm hands covered Finn’s wrists around his tea. “Can’t what, honey?”
“Can’t, uh. Can’t really do anything more than casual. There’s a lot going on?” His breath tried to catch in his chest. To subvert it, he took a sip of hot flower water. “Um. I guess—for them it’s got to be casual. So.”
“I see.” Gail sat back and considered Finn carefully. “So, they—she? He? They?—can’t do serious right now, but you want serious.”
Finn nodded.
“Do they… have a good reason for it?”
“Yeah.” Finn swallowed. It was definitely a good reason. Robbie being with Finn could mess up Sawyer’s whole life.
“So I guess you have to choose—either stick with them for something not so serious, or bail now.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, sounds to me like you’ve gotta decide. What’s going to hurt more? Leaving now or staying and leaving later?”
It didn’t matter. It was already going to hurt. He might as well enjoy the sweetness while it lasted. “I’d rather regret doing something than not doing it.”
Her face softened. “That’s a very mature way to look at it. I just want to make sure you don’t think they’re going to hurt you on purpose.”
Only if I ask for it.Oh God, Finn hoped she couldn’t see his blush or guess what it was for. He shifted on his chair.
“No,” he said belatedly. If Robbie knew what he felt like now, the way he was bracing himself against a future pain—one he knew would cut him deeply—he’d call the whole thing off before it could get any worse. That, at least, he wasn’t worried about. “No, he—they wouldn’t do that.”
He could hardly fault Robbie for any of it. Robbie hadn’t stolen a car or a bunch of cars or left his kid without a proper legal guardian. By all accounts, Robbie had been doing everything he could already. Finn wasn’t going to put any more on his shoulders right now. Sawyer’s father was in jail, was probably going to be in prison until Sawyer graduated university. Robbie had to put him first.
He wouldn’t be the man Finn was falling in love with if he didn’t.
“Well, there you go. They’ve already got one over on Paris.”
Oh jeez. “Mom.”
“What? I’m allowed to hold a grudge, it’s my job.”
He’d never convince her otherwise, so it made no sense to try. “God help anyone who ever wants to date Imogen, between you and Dad.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetie. We’ve arranged a marriage for her once she turns thirty. No need for her to date.” Her silly smile sharpened. “You know, we could still do the same for you—”
“Pass!” Finn yelped. “I’m too old already, so sorry.”
“Nonsense. You know I didn’t meet your dad until I was thirty-two.”
“Okay, all right.” He held up his hands. “I surrender. You want me to get out of your hair before he gets home?”
She shook her head. “Come here and hug me, and then let’s go bug Imogen into restarting season two. I want to know what Wednesday gets up to.”
Robbie wasstarting to get the hang of the whole TV-show thing. He arrived at the arena, grabbed breakfast from the craft services station set up in the cafeteria, guzzled as much coffee as he dared, and went with the flow of athletes to figure out where he was supposed to be next.
Today was Wednesday, which meant they were filming the beginning of the “who’s facing elimination” bullshit. Robbie had always hated the way reality TV shows dragged those moments out and baited-and-switched, and he didn’t like being part of it any more than he liked being subjected to it as a viewer.
