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My career is going better than ever. I just put out a new album, my most personal one yet, and fans and critics alike have noticed the shift. The most recent review says it’s a beautiful turn from more ‘calculated music, to something warmer that really shows heart’. Watching Callan get dressed, I know that he, Ares, and Tate have helped me a lot.

I’m successful and more at peace than ever. I don’t feel like I’m being crushed to death by the pressure of it all, and even though I still have my bad days, the three of them are always there to help me through them.

Smiling, I get dressed as well, and Callan and I head downstairs to the kitchen. Tate is making breakfast, flipping sausages in a pan with ease. When I walk in, he smiles and beckons me over.

“Morning, beautiful. Do you want a bite?” He cuts a square of French toast and I bite into it, making a pleased noise at the warm cinnamon sugar flavor on my tongue.

“Delicious,” I say and then lean in to kiss his cheek.

Ares is at the table, on a call with Dani. I kiss his cheek as well before starting the coffee, making each of my men a cup the way they like it.

Tate starts bringing the food to the table to eat, and Ares wraps up his call.

“Early for an agent call, isn’t it?” Tate asks, putting a plate down in front of him.

“That was just the post mortem,” Ares replies, grinning. His latest project just wrapped, and he’s already in talks to start shooting another one. He and Dani go over the play by play each time he finishes something, deciding what was good and what they’d like to change next time.

He’s been making a lot of moves in the last few months. His name has gotten out there more and more, which has gotten Dani off his case.

She was about as thrilled as my manager was with the news that we were together, alongside two other men, and the fans had a lot to say about it online. Surprisingly, most of it was pretty positive. We’ve gotten a lot of messages of support and people thanking us for making them feel comfortable talking about their own unconventional relationships.

Some people were shitty about it when the news first broke, but I’ve gotten more comfortable taking a ‘fuck the haters’ mentality about things for the first time in my life.

Because it is my life. These men are it for me, and no one else’s opinions matter.

When Tate puts a plate in front of me, I smile to see he’s arranged everything the way I like it. French toast cut up and off to the side, with a little cup of warmed syrup so I can dip my pieces instead of pouring it all over the plate. The eggs and sausages are on their own side of the plate, but not touching. And all the cut up fruit is in its own bowl too.

“Thank you,” I tell him, and he winks at me.

I had to explain my thing about foods touching and sauces spilling all over to the guys at first, but now it’s not even a thing anymore. They make my plates the way I like them, and they let me arrange things the way I need them to be arranged.

When Tate finishes with the stove, Callan snaps a picture of the burners in the off position without being asked, so that when I wonder if we turned it off later, he’ll have proof that we did.

They all make me feel so accepted in these little ways, and it’s more than I ever thought I would have.

We all eat our fill and then clean up, loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters.

Callan takes charge of the list I made last night, using his ‘drill instructor voice’ as Ares calls it. “Okay,” he says. “Everyone needs to have their bags packed and by the door in half an hour. Then we’ll load up and hit the road. Ares, you’re on lights and locks. Tate, you check the plugs.”

Both of them salute and go off to do their tasks.

“What do I do?” I ask him.

He grins. “Just sit there and look pretty.”

We both know I’m not going to do that, but I appreciate it all the same.

Half an hour later, we’re loading up the car for our newly formed tradition. Every year, we’ll make the drive back to Hope Falls for Christmas instead of flying, as a nod to the trip that started everything for us.

Ares and Tate show me their pictures that the lights are all off, the doors are all locked, and everything that should be unplugged is, so when I settle into the passenger seat next to Ares to start the drive, I’m not worried about a thing.

“We’ve got a lot of time before we said we’d be there,” Tate says as he puts on his seatbelt. “And so many motels we haven’t seen yet between here and there.”

“I packed some things I think will really enhance the trip,” Callan adds.

“Like what?” I want to know.

He smirks. “Like handcuffs, so when we cuff you to the bed in some cheap motel, all you’ll be able to do is take it when we fuck you. Maybe we’ll blindfold you and let you guess which one of us is doing what. I think we should hit up a truck stop too. One of the ones where they don’t really care what you get up to as long as you don’t make a mess.”