“I am proud of her. I told her that.” “Good. Keep telling her. And still get her flowers.” “Real ones, though. From an actual store.” Gage points his fork at me. “Not the ones from the garden behind res,” Mac adds. “I only did that once.” They arch a brow at me in tandem. “Okay. Twice. Got it. Flowers. Praise.” I feel like I’ve just gotten a crash course in being a boyfriend from three of the unlikeliest people.
