Page 104 of The Good Boys Club

Mam was quiet for a little while, drank some more of her milk. “You could always ask him to move here with you, you know?”

“Who?”

She cocked her head towards the west side of the house, towards my bedroom, where no doubt Cian was sleeping on the lower bunk after having won the rock-paper-scissors match for the third night in a row.

“Oh, right. Yeah, we’re not like that. We’re just friends.”

Mam opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again without saying anything.

I took a chicken thigh from the plate and bit into it, unsure about what I should do or say now, how much to admit, or even how much to admit to myself.

I’d enjoyed our kiss last night. Hadn’t stopped thinking about it . . . about how soft Cian’s lips were, how solid his body felt, how he tasted, the little moans he’d made, how his erection pushed insistently against my own.

Was I bi now? Did I like guys? I tried to imagine myself with another dude—any other. I couldn’t. Even attempted to picture myself with Timothy Everhart, Ci’s favourite actor, objectively a very attractive man. I got nothing. Not even a semi.

It was only Cian, only my best friend who drew these . . . curiosities out of me.

Mam took my empty milk glass away and put it inside the dishwasher. “If anything changes between you two, know that he’ll always be welcome in our pack.”

I nodded, but didn’t quite know what to say to that, so I shoved the rest of the chicken into my mouth.

“These things take time to figure out.” Mam ran her fingers through my hair, laid a kiss at my temple. “But not too long, okay? I’m not sure how much longer I can hold your nana back. She might seem like she’s more than happy up there in alpha land, but soon she’ll be too old to shift. She’s ready to hand the reins over.”

I wiped the chicken grease from my mouth with my fist and closed my eyes. Mam continued to finger comb my hair.

I’d never once said anything to anyone that would in any way come across as ungrateful or rude or disapproving of werewolf culture. I knew things worked in a certain order, and I had never dreamed of questioning it.

Until now.

“Why me, though?” My voice was a whisper. Even then, it caught on the last word.

Why me? Why not Clem, or Zach, or somebody else? Why me, the youngest of five?

Mam didn’t have an answer, not that I expected her to. “I’m sorry, baby.” She cradled my head to her chest. She didn’t need to tell me these things happened for a reason, that there was an order to be followed. I understood. And she knew I understood.

But she also knew I needed a few moments to grieve for my freedom.

You Saw the Whole of the Moon

Present Day

Cian

This morning Mash proved me wrong.

I thought that man couldn’t possibly get any more attractive, no fucking way, but he blew my theory right out of the water. He grew a moustache. Well, not so much grew it as shaved everything else off besides the tash, and now he was so fuckinggorgeous I wanted to weep every time I looked at him. He’d spent the entire evening whispering into my ear, rubbing the tip of his nose over the crook of my neck, and tickling my skin with his—still pretty short—moustache hairs.

He’d said it was because werewolves nuzzled, and if anyone were to glance over at our table, they’d expect to see two newly mated wolves nuzzling. That it’d look weird if we didn’t nuzzle. I wasn’t sure how much of his statement I believed, but to hell was I turning down the opportunity to have Mash’s face rubbed all over me.

It occurred to me he was, at the most basic level, scenting himself—his cum, the eau de Mash I’d rubbed all over my neck in the shower last night. But the smell was doing whatever magic it was supposed to be doing, because he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, leave me alone.

We’d had a fantastic meal at The Full Moon restaurant. This in itself should have been enough to convince Mash that Lykos was the right place for him, that long term he’d be happy here, but evidently he needed more, and now was in the middle of a panic attack.

I knew why. He didn’t have to say anything to me. He had begun grieving his old life in Remy.

I tugged him over to my car. He climbed into the passenger side and I got into the driver’s.

Mash didn’t speak as I drove off the B&B grounds and back onto Howling Pines. He watched me, his fingers idly tracing the new decoration on his top lip.

---