You don't have to be a telepath to read the relief on Kyle's face. His friends are cool with this. He worries an awful lot about Quentin, and not for the reasons most people would assume. "Thank you," he says, smiling like a fool.

Kyle rolls his eyes again. "So married. Whatever, I bet you at least know one another's Starbucks orders." He's not going to point out that he himself knows what both of them like. "Jazz is... fine. It's no Qveen Herby." He takes another bite of his pretzel, free hand still petting David.

"Look at you, you're like a king here."