"Outing somebody against their will is so uncool it's on the first page of the So You're Gay - Now What Do You Do? rulebook," Millicent said, almost managing to keep a straight face. "No worries."
"Shit, the cake." She ran and pulled it out, put it to cool and came back to the table. "Who's the lover?" she asked. "Zippy zip lips and all that."
She wasn't completely down with the marry-a-gay-guy-and-sleep-with-others deal. She'd rather be a spinster (well, a sexually active spinster, if that was even possible) until the day she died than try some sort of package deal. Then again, getting pregnant was about as desireable as being hit by a bus. Or a troll.
"I'm sorry, T. You deserve a bloke that doesn't sleep with other blokes. Blaise doesn't do that, does he? Because I've been dying to beat somebody up..."