Boy Toy

her the summer before I turned fifteen. She was a twenty-year-old college student, employed by my parents to take care of my siblings.

What about him? I hadn’t seen him in fifteen years until I dropped the girls off at daycare. We were never close.”

“Stop it, you guys. He’s too young for me.”

“How old is he?” Ash asks.

I do the math. “Twenty-nine, I guess.”

Where are my favorite two-year-olds today?”

“At their father’s house,” I say

He’s young—in his twenties, probably—with tanned skin and wavy brown hair. He has smooth, very muscular arms. They bulge. His biceps are straining the s