What the fuck was this?
Robby hoped he wasn't grimacing to much about the situation. Max, bringing a date. How could he?
They were suppose to be sharing Max by now. A threesome. Yes, it was sweet on the tip of Robby's tongue. But he couldn't say it. Possibly never. Where did Maxxie think this was going?
In Robby's dream, they'd all go back to Max's, half drunk and fuck. A lot. Maybe he'd take some pictures. God, how he adored Maxxie's ass. It was completely a figment of his imagination now. What was Max getting at, all lovey dovey with this acting buddy of his. It was just dreadful.
That sassy little bitch with him. He was a bit obnoxious, or so Rob thought. But damn, if Maxxie wasn't eating it up. Like Darby was a star on the show and off, as well.
The tension grew, Robby drank more juice to chase down with vodka. It was a gigantic disappointment. Everyone should have had their clothes off by now, having a lovely fucking time, but NO. Here they were in a crowded bar. Max chatting it up about old times. Such crap.
"Well, what about now?" Darby jumped on it before Robby had a chance.
"All right, what is your fuck'n game?" Robby finally had a chance to speak with him as he grabbed him by the hoodie and shoved into the fruit machine.
"How dare you?" Darby snarled as if he had a mind to kick Robby's balls. "He's my boyfriend."
"I hardly doubt that." He knew a cover up when he saw one.
Naturally, Darby fluttered those boyish eyelashes of his as if he'd give him a shoving match if he didn't stop with the stupid questions.
"Max paying you?" Robby got closer.
"NO." He said, hugging himself tight. But his frown swelled hard. "I fancy him. He fancies me."
"Then who is doing who?" Robby pressed.
Darby looked at him as if he didn't know what he meant.
"You faking fuckwad!" Robby could eat him right here, but he knew he still had to be Tony's boyfriend.