Chapter Sixteen #3
“But extra fries?” Sawyer clarified.
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you just get chicken nuggets?” Sawyer looked as appalled as anyone who loved chicken nuggets could look.
“Because I want a crispy chicken?”
“A crispy chicken without a bun is basically just nuggets!”
“No, it’s a crispy chicken, without a bun.”
Robbie thought about the order, and to each their own, but…. “It’s gonna show up in the box all sad.”
“Are you seriously judging my food choices right now, Mr. Donut Dipped in Orange Juice?” Finn glared at Robbie around his bag of peas. “I’m saving my carbs for fried potato. Sue me.”
And okay, sure, Finn had a point, but… “It’s McDonald’s.”
“Yeah, so?”
“It’s… McDonald’s,” Robbie said again, flummoxed.
“McDonald’s is about junk food,” Sawyer agreed. “Who cares how many carbs it has?”
“Oh my God,” Finn huffed. “What are you, the food police? I got used to eating this way when training, okay? Now it’s weird with the bun.”
“I don’t know what to say to you right now,” Robbie admitted.
Sawyer snorted. “You’re the one who fell in love with him.”
The kid had a point. Robbie slumped back onto the carpet. “It’s too late to go back now. I’ll just have to reconcile myself to being with a man who eats bunless chicken sandwiches.”
“Just order my crispy chicken, you drama queen.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Robbie saluted from his prone position and put in Finn’s order and his own burger and fries, then topped it off with two milkshakes. He was pretty sure he knew what Finn would like, but he’d probably be happy with the vanilla if Robbie was wrong.
Then he said yes to delivery, because fuck getting off the carpet. Of course, he had to shift his ass when the delivery driver rang the bell, but you couldn’t have everything in life.
By the time he returned to the living room, balancing the large bag of food and the drinks tray, Sawyer and Finn had fetched plates and cutlery.
“Wow, look at you two civilized gentlemen.”
Finn shrugged. “I pointed out that plates would make it easier for Sawyer to balance several foods at once.”
“Wise man.” Robbie handed Sawyer his McFlurry, then presented the milkshakes to Finn with a dramatic wave of his hand. “A beverage, monsieur?”
His lips quirked. “I didn’t order one.”
“I noticed that you forgot, but I’d hate for you to miss out. I mean, it is an important part of a balanced meal.”
Finn laughed. “Which is mine?”
“Whichever you want.”
Finn took the strawberry.
“Ha! Knew it.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss to Finn’s cheek. “Princess.”
Finn swatted his chest with the back of his hand, but he didn’t deny the charge. Instead he wrapped his lips around the straw and sucked, arching a brow at Robbie in defiance.
“Ugh, stop being gross and come eat.”
“Us? Gross? Never!” Robbie pulled away from Finn so he wouldn’t hurt his ears. Despite his protests, he followed Sawyer’s instructions and unpacked the rest of the food. Sawyer had stopped at the Happy Meal.
“So,” Sawyer said around a fry, “where were you this afternoon?”
Robbie searched his face for judgment or betrayal at Robbie’s choice that left him alone, but found none, just curiosity.
He munched a fry and considered what to say. There was Sawyer’s reaction to consider, of course. And that concerned him most.
But he wanted to be careful about Finn too. If Scott somehow fumbled the ball and didn’t offer Finn the coaching gig, he might go on the road with Dance Your Ice Off. And that might leave Robbie with a limited amount of time to spend with him.
He also didn’t want to rub salt in any wounds. This job—a reasonably lucrative one—had more or less fallen into his lap, and he didn’t even need the money.
“Beavers team execs have been watching Dance Your Ice Off,” he started. He flicked his gaze from Sawyer—skeptical—to Finn—impassive. “Apparently I have on-screen presence and charisma.”
“Dubious,” Sawyer said.
Finn nodded, faux serious. “Clearly they have no idea how much editing goes into each show.”
“Rude.” But probably fair. And if Finn was joking, that was probably a good sign. “Still, if they’ve been hoodwinked, they’re committed to their misunderstanding. They offered me a one-year trial contract with the option to renew next summer if things work out.”
“A contract for what?” Sawyer still had food in his mouth. He looked like a startled chipmunk.
“To be Mario.”
“What?”
“They want me to make intermission and online content. Do interviews and stuff.”
“Wow, Robbie, that’s amazing,” Finn gushed. If he felt any kind of envy, Robbie couldn’t detect it. “I knew you were having too much fun.”
“Are they sure they know what they’re doing?” Sawyer said. “You’d be way better at colour commentary. You might have negative rizz, but you’re very good at yelling at the TV.”
“Wow.” Robbie bit down hard on the smile that wanted to escape. He couldn’t encourage Sawyer like that. “Negative rizz? How’d you think I pulled this guy?” He gestured at Finn.
Sawyer swallowed a nugget more or less whole. “Please. Imogen and I practically gift-wrapped him for you and you still almost fucked it up.”
Finn choked on his milkshake. Shame on him. Soon he’d learn not to eat while Sawyer was talking. When he’d cleared his airway, he asked, “So are you going to do it?”
“Dunno. I told them I needed some time and had to discuss it with my family.”
Sawyer flushed and abandoned his nuggets for the McFlurry. Finn shot Robbie the sweetest of bashful-princess looks.
Robbie needed to get him a tiara. Maybe for his birthday. He’d already bought pearls for Christmas.
“Gross,” Sawyer said. “I can feel you gazing at each other.”
“You literally just took credit for this love fest, bud,” Robbie said with immense satisfaction. “Hoisted by your own petard. Or what is it the kids say these days? Fuck around and find out?”
With a put-upon groan, Sawyer flopped back onto the carpet. Robbie made a note to make sure his high school had a good drama program. He should put that energy to good use. “I know you know that saying. I’ve heard you use it. You’re just pretending to be old.”
“Excuse you. I’m actually old. I have earned every one of these grey hairs.
” He was looking forward to getting a few more, as long as they came from the happy chaos of a wonderful home life and not from this custody thing getting drawn out any further.
Zulma had mentioned she’d recommend an emergency hearing just as soon as she completed her interviews, to avoid the possibility of Sawyer’s grandparents spitting poison in his kid’s ears—that was another reason Robbie had put off making a decision.
If he ended up having to take them to court, he didn’t want to worry about a job.
“Whatever, old man.” Sawyer kicked weakly at his foot. “Drink your milkshake. Or are your teeth too sensitive?”
“Wow,” Finn deadpanned. “Someone wants to be sent to bed without his french fries.”
Grinning, Robbie settled with his back against the couch and sucked down the last of his shake. Retired life hadn’t turned out anything like he expected, but he could definitely get used to this.