Less than fifteen minutes after his mother’s car had pulled out of their driveway, Logan sprawled across the couch as his younger brother Dylan sat on the floor in front of the television, glued to the set. Logan was just as enthralled with the cell phone in his hands, furiously texting Chad. Mom gone. Stuck here w/brat. U?
The reply was almost instantaneous. Thinkin of u. Can u talk?
With a grin, Logan hit the SEND button twice to call the last number he’d dialed—Chad’s, of course. Before the phone even stopped ringing in his ear, he gushed, “Hey, sexy.”
From his spot on the floor, Dylan grimaced. “Ew, yuck.”
“Shut up.” Logan kicked out with one leg, but his foot narrowly missed Dylan’s elbow. Into the phone, he sighed. “I’m stuck here with the squirt while Mom goes out drinking with
