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She nods, looking thoughtful. “Do you play with marshmallows a lot?”

Both of them chuckle. “Not really, but it was actually fun.”

Goldfish licks Wyatt’s chin, making Jessie giggle. “He likes you!” she says, as little warning flares go off in my head.

The men unpack the food they brought—chicken tenders, macaroni and cheese, green beans, salad, and bread—and then they start saying goodbye.

“Aren’t you going to stay for dinner?” Jessie asks them, and she looks so disappointed about them leaving, that I can’t help but invite them to stay.

Unfortunately, our dining table only has four chairs, but as soon as Jessie sees the problem, she runs off to bring a chair from her bedroom. She returns a few seconds later with one of the small pink plastic seats that goes with the play table in her room.

“That’s meant for a smaller table,” I tell her when she sets it next to the dining table. “You won’t be able to reach your plate.”

Marissa looks between me and our guests. “I’ll sit at the kitchen counter.”

“How about if I take that one?” Cam says, reaching for Jessie’s chair. “It looks pretty sturdy. Then we can all fit at the table.”

He sits down in Jessie’s chair, and my daughter erupts into giggles.

“What’s so funny?” he asks with mock innocence as he looks around as if searching for what might be the cause of her laughter.

His knees are level with his chest, and the little chair has all but disappeared under his body. It’s all so ridiculous, butmychest fills with warmth at hearing Jessie laugh on this night when she’s been so worried about Goldfish.

We all sit down to eat, with Cam somehow making the chair work, even though it leaves him a bit lower than the table. Conversation flows pretty smoothly, and the guys are great with Jessie. They question her about what some of her favorite things are, like colors, foods, and songs, and they even ask to try the special sauce she mixes up for her chicken, which is ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise.

At first I’m surprised how well they relate to her, but I guess it makes sense, since they’re like kids themselves.

While they’re talking to Jessie, I take the opportunity to study them, and decide they’re every bit as good looking as I thought when I first saw them. Almost unfairly so, with their beautiful, thick eyelashes and strong cheekbones.

It’s odd that they’re making online content by having marshmallow battles, yet the woman at the grocery store seemed to appreciate them for their looks. I wonder if she’s representative of their fan base demographics. You’d think the men would just do workout videos or some kind of “hey, girl” motivational messages if they were trying to capitalize on their looks.

As I study them, I can’t find any particular similarities in their features, except that they’re both so attractive. “Are you two related to each other?” I ask when there’s a break in the conversation.

“No, we’re friends from college,” Wyatt says.

“So are we,” Marissa tells them.

A discussion follows about where we all went to school and when, and I’m stunned to find out the men are five years older than I am. It’s hard to believe, because they seem so boyish.

When we’re all done eating, the men help clear the table, and they even try to load the dishwasher, but I stop them. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Alright, we’ll get out of your hair,” Cam says with an amiable grin.

“I hope we can get together again soon,” Wyatt says. “Under better circumstances, that is. And I hope we can have chicken again, too, because Jessie’s really on to something with that special sauce.”

My daughter glows at the compliment.

At the door, when it’s just me and the guys, Cam pauses on the threshold. “Can we get your number …you know, so we can check in on how Goldfish is doing tomorrow?”

“How many times today are you going to ask for her number?” Wyatt quips, earning a dirty look from his friend.

“Yeah, was this all just a setup to get my number?” I tease.

As we exchange numbers, Cam says, “It’s good for neighbors to be able to get in touch. If you ever need anything, give us a call.”

After they leave, I find Marissa in the kitchen. “They were a lot of fun,” she says. “Not too hard on the eyes, either.”

“Are you interested in them?”