Before I can open my mouth to ask what’s wrong, he tackles me onto the couch cushions. “The fuck,” I squeak. “You dick,” he says, grabbing a pillow and shoving it on my face. “I can’t believe you told Cas about your big gay revelation before me!” “Are…are you trying to smother me with a pillow?” I mumble into the fabric. “We’re supposed to be friends.” “We are,” I groan. “Ugh. You’re not even struggling,” he complains, pressing the pillow against me harder before tossing it away. “It’s no fun if you don’t struggle.” “Whoa,” I breathe. “Birdie, that was grim.”
