Maybe it’s because it’s late and I’m tired, but I’m actually tempted, though I’m not sure if I’d rather go out with both of them or with one of them. Cam is entertaining and charming, while Wyatt seems like he’d be someone I could have a long conversation with.

It would be nice to have a grownup night out. And they’re both so attractive. But they’re not the right kind of men for me, despite how nice they’ve been.

“I’m… not dating right now,” I tell him. “There’s just too much going on in my life at the moment.”

“That’s fine,” he says lightly. “If you change your mind, the offer’s good anytime.” After a pause, he says, “I’ll leave you alone with the cookies. Have a good night.”

“Thank you for the delicious cookies. You have a good night, too.”

As I walk back to the house, I experience a pang of regret. Should I have said yes?

I’m drawn to him—to both of them—even though I know better. They’re ridiculously hot, but there’s something that doesn’t sit right with me about how they make their living.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with what they’re doing; in fact, it’s really cool that they can have fun while they’re earning money. But their lives are on a completely different path than mine.

Maybe if I’d have met them before I had Jessie, I’d feel differently, but I have responsibilities now, and having fun with guys who play with marshmallows for a living just isn’t the right fit.

CHAPTER13

STELLA

The next day, my mom calls to talk with Jessie. It’s late when she phones, only fifteen minutes before Jessie needs to get ready for bed.

“You should have called earlier,” I say gently, when I tell her she’ll need to keep the conversation brief.

“How would I know when Jessie’s bedtime is?” is her annoyed reply.

I let out a sigh and bite back my retort. We lived with her until not that long ago; she should know Jessie’s bedtime perfectly well. It’s not like the little girl turned into a teenager overnight.

“Here’s Jessie. You can talk for ten minutes.” I hover nearby and hear Jessie say, “I miss you, too,” several times, leading me to assume that my mom is repeatedly telling her she misses her. Maybe she should have thought about that before kicking us out of her house in a drunken rage.

I’m glad we don’t live with her anymore, but I hate how the move disrupted Jessie’s life, and now here’s my mom making Jessie sad. It’s fine for her to tell her she misses her, but she shouldn’t be dwelling on it.

Jessie looks like she’s on the verge of crying.

“It’s time to say goodbye,” I tell her. “You can talk to Nana again soon.”

When the call is over, I tell Jessie it’s time to take a quick bath, but she refuses, saying she isn’t dirty.

“You were running around the yard with Goldfish earlier, so please don’t argue. Oh, and before the bath, you need to pick out three outfit options for tomorrow.”

She folds her arms across her chest. “I don’t want to.”

“That’s fine. I’ll choose something for you to wear.”

“No,” Jessie says, pouting, but she goes to her drawers and starts looking through her clothes.

This sudden change in her behavior is a direct result of the phone call, and I’m pissed at my mom for upsetting her. I’ve talked to Jessie about whether she misses nana and pop pop, and she says, “a little,” but I worry that she’s downplaying her feelings. Even though they weren’t the best grandparents—and that’s an understatement—they’re all that she’s known.

I get Jessie through her bath, read her a story, and am relieved when she falls asleep before I reach the end.

I’m tired too, but too wound up to go to bed early. I just want to decompress for a while.

Marissa’s watching a reality dating show, with Goldfish curled up next to her, but I can’t get into it. So much unnecessary drama. One of the guys looks kind of like Cam, and it’s very distracting.

Sitting at the opposite end of the sofa from Marissa, I make sure my phone’s on silent, then search for the men’s channel. It’s not hard to find them, and wow, they have an incredibly impressive number of followers.

I scroll through several of their videos, trying to keep my face neutral so Marissa doesn’t ask what I’m looking at.