Page 28 of My Five Daddies

I don’t even know what that means. I know they’re all handsome, smart, funny, attractive, and rich, but I barely know them. Yet I find myself wanting each and every one of them, maybe equally, but I definitely can’tchoose.

In situations like this, I’m supposed to pick one of them. We’re supposed to avoid drama, try not to let the friend group get torn apart, but in this case everything’s different. Jordan made it sound like they all want to be with me, and they don’t mind if they’re all in ittogether.

It drives me crazy, imagining that. I can’t believe it’s true, though. Maybe Jordan was wrong, and he was just speaking for himself. Maybe he doesn’t care if I’m with any of the other guys, but maybe one of them willcare.

I don’t know what I’m thinking, going forward with this. I’m entangling myself with these guys, making sure the ties between us are tight. It’s irresponsible, unprofessional, and it feels so damngood.

I never let myself have something like this. Whenever I get close, I always run away. I don’t know why I do it; maybe I think that I don’t deserve love or happiness. But everyone deserves it, absolutely everything, or at least that’s what I think Ibelieve.

So why can’t I just let go and let them have me, one by one if that’s what theywant?

I take a step toward the church. I’m supposed to meet Dustin for the first time today, and I know that if I do this, if I go to this meeting, there’s no turning back. The future Jordan put in my brain might come to pass, or things might fall apart completely. Chances are, this is going to be a damnmess.

But it’s a fun mess. It’s a good mess. It’s the sort of mess I need to have in my life right now. I can’t beafraid.

I ascend the stairs and reach the big front door. I push and it shifts open. I step inside, into thefoyer.

The place definitely was a church at one point, but it’s not anymore. Ahead, I can see the recording booth with all the equipment. I spot Chris and Ethan in there, sitting on some stools. Ethan is moving some sliders and turning some knobs, both of them wearingheadphones.

Ahead is the main recording area. It’s covered in rugs and acoustic treatments. Sitting in the middle on a simple chair, holding an acoustic guitar with one mic at his mouth and another at the instrument, is a kid that can’t be older than fifteen. He’s cute in a teen sort of way, with shaggy, dirty blond hair and striking blueeyes.

The doors into the chapel are locked and there’s a sign on the window: “Do Not Enter. Turn left.” So I turn left, walk down a short hallway, and find a door at the end. I open it tentatively and find myself inside of the recordingbooth.

Chris spots me first. “There she is.” He gets up, his body massive, and takes off his headphones. He walks over and crushes me in a hug, surprisingly comfortable. “Glad youcame.”

“Thanks,” I say, smiling athim.

Ethan comes up next, a kiss on the cheek. “Want to hear him?” heasks.

“Yeah,definitely.”

Ethan walks over to the controls and flips a switch. The sound of a kid’s singing voice, smooth and sweet, plus an acoustic guitar comes flooding in through the studiomonitors.

We stand there in silence together listening to him for a minute. He has an amazing voice, I have to give him that. He’s not the best guitarist in the world, but it’s passable, and the combination of the two is prettyhypnotic.

The song ends and Ethan walks to the controls. He hits a button. “That was good,” he says. “Want to goagain?”

Dustin nods. “One more time,” hesays.

“Okay. Whenever you’reready.”

Ethan turns back to me and grins. Chris nudges me. “So, that’s the kid. What do youthink?”

“He’s cute,” I say. “And talented. I can see why you guys are all investing inhim.”

“We think he’s going to be a star,” Ethan says. “I have an ear for thisthing.”

“He really does,” Chris confirms. “But in this case, I think you’d have to be deaf to missit.”

I laugh and Ethan grins sheepishly. “Whatever,” he grumbles. “I foundhim.”

“Yes, you did,” Chrisallows.

Ethan goes back to the controls, turning some knobs, hitting some buttons. Chris stands there next to me, listening to Dustin playing andsinging.

“Heard about you and Jordan,” Chris sayssuddenly.

I’m surprised and almost don’t know what to say. “Uh, yeah,” Isay.

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