“Yeah.” His smile shifts to wistful. “They’re my best friends. I’ve called them in the middle of the night and they’ve answered. We celebrate birthdays and holidays with each other. When someone is going through a breakup, we’ll all sit on the couch and eat pints of ice cream together.” I laugh, and he accidentally nudges my knee with his. “I’m serious. I’d walk through a fire for them, and they’d do the same for me.”
