Page 68 of My Five Daddies

I grin at them. “Okay, guys, enough. It’s fine. I’m overit.”

All three men grin at me. “I knew you’d come around,” Jordansays.

“How’s he doing?” I ask, nodding atDustin.

“Good,” Ethan says. “Keeps asking aboutyou.”

“Chris told me.” I bite my lip. “Think he’sserious?”

“We’llsee.”

Dustin’s vocal part finishes and he looks over. I wave to him from the booth, doing my best to keep positive. His face lights up with a smile and he waves back eagerly, and I’m reminded again that he’s just a fifteen-year-old kid. It’s easy to forgetsometimes.

I head into the studio and he walks over to me, looking bashful. “I’m glad you came,” he says. “I wanted to apologize for what Idid.”

“Okay,” I say. “Apologize.”

That seems to throw him off. “Ah, uh, I know I shouldn’t have done that. We’re working together. Business or whatever. I mean, it wasinappropriate.”

“What was?” I askhim.

He hesitates. “Trying to kissyou.”

“That’s not what I’m upset about,” I say to himsoftly.

He cocks his head, confused. “What are you upsetabout?”

“The way you reacted. Smashing that stool, breaking that mirror. You scared me, Dustin. You acted like apsycho.”

He sighs, looking at the ground. I can tell he’s pretty upset and working hard to keep himself together. “I’m sorry. I can’t control myself sometimes. I need to work onit.”

“You do,” I say simply. “If you want to keep working with me, I’m game. But if you ever do something like that again, I’m walkingaway.”

“Okay,” he says, meeting my eyes again. “That’s adeal.”

I hold my hand out. “Deal.”

We shake on it and he brightens up. “Want to hear this new guitar part I came upwith?”

I glance at the booth and Ethan gives me a grin and a thumbs up. “Sure,” I say, and I follow him to hisguitar.

He sits down and starts playing and I can’t help but glance back at the guys. They’re talking to each other, laughing about something, but I can tell they’re all watching closely. I can tell they’re on edge, waiting for something tohappen.

And I don’t blame them. I feel the sameway.

Dustin seemed sincere, but I don’t believe him. I do think he can’t control himself, but I doubt he wants tochange.

I listen to him playing and eventually he stops. “What do you think?” heasks.

“That’s great,” Isay.

“Come here, I did a piano parttoo.”

I follow him to the piano he sits down and motions for me to sit beside him. I hesitate but sit and he starts toplay.

His piano playing isn’t terrible. Not great, but he can carry a tune. The music is soft and sweet, and he starts to play with one hand, looking at mesideways.

And he puts his other hand on mythigh.

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