Page 100 of The Good Boys Club

“I can see why you fell in love with this handsome chap,” I said, handing the photo back to Mam. She smiled. So did Nana. So did Cian. And in that second, I realised what was happening.

The women had no doubt conspired together and concocted a plan:Project Let’s Convince Cian How Wholesome and Wonderful Family Life Is Here at Howling Pines and Make Sure He’ll Never Reject Mash’s Mate Bite.

Was I a bad person for secretly hoping it worked?

I bent down and placed my lips near Cian’s ear. “You like the moustache?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

“I’ll grow a tash for you, baby.” And because we had an audience we needed to convince of our relationship, and because I wanted to, I kissed his temple.

“This is a lovely one of us all,” Mam said. She and Nana shared a covert glance and a subtle nod.

Still bending over Cian, I accepted the photo and held it in such a way we could both look at it. There was my dad in the centre, roughly the age I was now. He had an arm around Mam and the other shielding his eyes from the sun. Next to them stood a preteen Clem wearing daisy-print overalls. A baby me rested on her hip. Beside us was Mika, about eight years old in a pink sundress, which left five-year-old Alba wrestling with Zach—four at most—on the grass in front of us. It had been taken in one of the clearings on the Howling Pines reserve. Nana wasn’t in the shot, which meant she’d snapped it.

“That you?” Ci asked, pointing to the baby.

“Yeah,” I said.

“So cute. You all look so happy. Well, maybe not these two.” He pointed to Alba and Zach.

I closed my eyes and tipped my forehead to his temple, breathing in the scent of him. Of us. Of the shampoo we shared, and the utter domestic bliss of the situation. The fresh coffee, the pastries, the toast.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

I had my eyes shut, but I still saw the picture. I was my father, kids all over the lawn, but instead of a random woman standing next to me, pulled close by my extended arm, it was Ci.

I had to get out of there. I was on the brink of crying—what the actual fuck—in front of everyone.

That’s what I wanted.

I haphazardly placed the photo into Ci’s hand, plonked my mug of half-drunk coffee on the countertop, and I ran out of the kitchen, into my room, then into my bathroom.

After a few moments of sitting on the closed lid of the toilet and trying to calm my manic heartbeat, I heard the bedroom door open and Cian’s footsteps—I’d recognise that gait anywhere—as he walked over to the bed and sat down, causing the springs to creak.

Even though I hadn’t done anything other than mope, I flushed the toilet. Then I splashed cold water on my face. I was not ready to address what any part of my little freak out meant. That was not a problem for today’s Mash. Today’s Mash was more concerned with what he might do to his best friend after he finished his shift in the B&B kitchen.

“You alright?” Ci asked as I joined him in the bedroom. “You ran off pretty sharpish.”

“Had to. I’m guessing Mam made the coffee? She always makes it like rocket fuel. Two sips and I was ready to defecate myself.”

Ci’s nostrils flared, and I realised he didn’t believe me. I should have actually taken a shit. At least there would have been some evidence to back up my statement. Instead, he stared at me, waiting for the truth. But to fuck was I giving him that?

“So, tonight I thought we’d eat at the B&B, and then maybe afterwards we could go to the lake . . . alone,” I said.

Cian’s cheeks turned pink. “Sounds good to me.”

“Um . . . so, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I really want to kiss you.” Inwardly, I groaned. It had sounded a lot less lovesick teenager in my head. I cleared my throat. “I mean, will it harm our friendship if we just, like, casually kissed now and then, if it’s not . . . leading up to sex or . . . ? It’s basically a bro hug, but with our lips.”

He seemed to choke a little on his spit, then composed himself. “Do you think it’ll harm our friendship?”

Yes. Unequivocally, undeniably, without a modicum of doubt. Shatter it to smithereens. “No.”

“Okay, then. I mean, me neither. So yes . . . to casual kissing.” His blush spread up into his hairline. “You wanna kiss now?”

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