“I still wouldn’t risk it,” said Vinnie. “You can tell yourself it can’t be that bad, but you’ll change your mind eight years down the line when you’re disciplining one kit for trying to kill the other in its sleep.” Luke glared at his brother. “Not a night I’ll ever forget.” Again, Tate shrugged. “That sound you made annoyed me.” Luke’s brows snapped together. “What? Snoring?” “Breathing.” As the brothers proceeded to argue, Vinnie held up a finger. “One, Slater. Just one.”
