Robbie needed him to fill in some of those blanks. “Give me a little more to go on, kid.”
Sawyer huffed out a gusty breath. “Finn issensitive, okay? His ex-girlfriend messed him up and he doesn’t date a lot and he’s justnice. I don’t want him to get hurt.”
Something cold settled in Robbie’s stomach. That was the second time today someone had insinuated that he was hurting Finn. He could’ve dismissed Gail’s texts as just her being a mom, though he probably wouldn’t have. So what did Gail and Sawyer know that Robbie didn’t?
“Why does everyone think I want to hurt Finn?” The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of them. “I—”
I love Finn.
Okay, yeah, no, he definitely wasn’t spitting that out to Sawyer before he said it to Finn. And not before he’d had a little time to process it himself either.
“You?” Sawyer prompted when Robbie didn’t finish the sentence.
“I’m not that kind of guy,” Robbie finished weakly.
He could feel the intensity of the teenage side-eye. “Are you sure? Because friends with benefits kind of sounds like someone’s going to get hurt. And you’re not giving injured.”
Fuck. Was Robbie being an asshole? Surely Finn didn’t really think Robbie meant it when he gave Sawyer the friendship brush-off this morning. Robbie thought he’d been pretty clear that he was in this for the long haul, he just needed toprioritize Sawyer until this whole brother-in-prison, parents-are-douchebags scenario was over.
Oooor, Finn had thought Robbie meant he couldn’t make him a priorityever, in which case Robbie was definitely the asshole and probably owed Finn some expensive jewelry and a lot of groveling.
Maybe Sawyer realized he’d lost Robbie to the inside of his own thoughts, because he didn’t push further.
They picked up báhn mi for lunch on the way home, and then stopped at the boutique grocery store for a pre-made stir-fry Robbie could serve without feeling like a parental failure but which did not involve him cooking anything else today. By the time they walked in the door, it was two in the afternoon and his body was reminding him that until a few weeks ago, this was nap time.
He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep restfully until he talked to Finn, and even if he could, he didn’t want to try. As soon as Sawyer went downstairs to his video game, Robbie went into his bedroom, pulled the door mostly closed, and took out his phone.
He probably needed to talk to Finn in person. This didn’t seem like the kind of thing he could fix over text. But he didn’t think Finn would answer if Robbie called anyway, if Robbie had fucked this up the way he thought he might have. He’d have to send a text message.
How did you write a text that conveyed,Hey, will you meet me in person, because I think I might’ve accidentally been a huge dick, and I like you way more than you think I do, like in a permanent way? Any message that conveyed the first part sounded like a precursor tolet’s break up, and Finn deserved better than to hear the last part by text.
Maybe this was why people broke up less when they had to communicate by letter. That, and half of them died before they realized they should get divorced.
In the end he settled onAll good at the lawyer (or as good as it can be). Miss you already. Talk later?
There. That should get the message across, right? No one would putmiss you alreadybefore alet’s talkthat meant a breakup was imminent.
Robbie groaned and flung himself onto his bed. He was overthinking this. He was tired, and stressed about his parents, and his brother, and his kid, and he barely even hadtimeto stress about the reality TV contest he was supposed to be putting effort into. And now he was stressed about Finn because he had been stupid.
He shoved his head under a pillow to try to block further stress from seeping in his ears. It didn’t work. The pillow smelled like Finn’s shampoo.
Robbie was on the verge of thinking he might go insane from the wait and his brain’s rabbiting panic when his phone buzzed.
Sorry can’t text. At a bar.
Robbie stared at his phone, perplexed. He couldn’t text because he was at a bar? Dread filled him. Robbie asked to talk, sure, and calls and bars didn’t mix, but….
Is it too loud in there to text? haha
Robbie waited, staring at his phone, but Finn didn’t answer. The message stayed unread.
Shit. Robbie had really fucked this up.
Ten minutes later, he was hollering to Sawyer about going to the grocery store. And truthfully, Robbiemeantto channel his energy into a productive food run. Honest.
But an hour later, he handed over his black credit card for a four-thousand-dollar purchase that he only really considered the sheer insanity of when the clerk was swiping the card.
“Actually, can I add something else?” he asked, because he couldn’t cancel the purchase. He had to buy it now he’d found it, but…
