Page 111 of The Good Boys Club

“Naw, you remembered,” he said. “Did you get me a gift?”

“I did actually, but I didn’t wrap it. So, the other day at The Full Moon, I met Jason. You know Jason?”

Mash pushed a gap between us and flattened me to the mattress so he could look at my face. “You’re not allowed to speak to Jason.”

I fought a grin. This moment right now was an ultimate fantasy come true.

“Are you jealous?” I teased.

“Yes.” He didn’t even bother to hide it. It was adorable, and hot, and wonderfully caveman. “Jason is gay, and objectively very good looking.”

“He’s also mated. I saw his mate bite, and I could smell his mate-smell thing, whatever that’s called.” I was getting better at werewolf-scenting nuances.

Since Mash and I had become friends who frot, we had swapped out piss for cum because, well, it was altogether a lot more fun. It didn’t change the scent of us, but it wasn’t as potent and didn’t seem to linger as long. During one highly mortifying discussion with Clem in her kitchens, she compared the two scenting methods to the differences between eau de toilette and eau de parfum.

“If you want it to last longer, and you want other people choking on your love for each other, it has to be . . . well, you know, I’ve told you a few thousand times already. And if you want extrait de parfum, that’s your mate bite right there.”

“Anyway, I spoke to Jason, and he’s agreed to play theMoonlighttrilogy on the smallest screen of his cinema. All three movies, back to back. Unlimited popcorn and frozen soda, and those strawberry cables you like, and then afterwards we’re having a barbeque with the entire Cassidy pack. Apparently, your mum’s been smoking ribs for a few days.”

“Fuck, that’s amazing.” He kissed me on the mouth, not a care in the world for morning breath. “I love you. What do you want for your birthday?”

I want you to say those three words again, but mean them the way I need you to mean them. “Nothing. I don’t want anything.”

“You sound like my mam.”

I laughed. “I just wanna hang out with you, that’s all.”

“When’s the full moon?”

“Not tomorrow, next day.”

Mash pushed away from me a little. “Oh, it’s the hunt on your birthday. That’s unfortunate—oh no, wait. I’ve got the perfect present idea for you.” He kissed me again. “It’s Harvest Moon, that means it’s all veggies, so it’s not really a hunt. Don’t know why we still call it that. You like honeycomb, right?”

None of Mash’s sentences made any sense. Standard. “Uh . . . sure?”

“Ooh,” he said, obviously remembering something different. “Did you ever figure out what to do with the whole turtleneck issue?”

From sweets to foreskin, because why not? “Yes. I’ve been practicing shifting half into my wolf dick. I’ll show you, but I can’t be hard when I do it.” Which I was, thanks to his kisses.

“Okay.” Mash cupped my knot and stroked up my cock. Squeezed the head. Kissed me on the mouth again. “I can help with that.”

Seven minutes later, I was lying flat on my back wearing the biggest, cheesiest, happiest smile on my face, with both Mash’s and my cum all over my stomach.

I checked my watch. “In about half an hour, there’s a tractor arriving with a load of pumpkins from the gardens down the road. We need to unload them and put them in the Harvest Moon display. Rita said you’d know what to do. And apparently there are some more decorations in the loft we have to get out.”

Mash scratched the base of his ear. “I should know this stuff, shouldn’t I?”

“Probably. As successor, you’ll need to learn it all soon. Or you can just make sure you surround yourself with people who can remind you.”

Mash sucked at his teeth but said nothing. He ran a finger through our combined mess and rubbed it into his throat, then he stood and tossed the roll of toilet paper towards me.

After I’d showered and dressed—Mash didn’t bother showering, he simply slung on a T-shirt, pair of shorts and sliders, and his pack’s birthday crown—I went into the loft to fetch the boxes for the second full moon. Mash bounded out to the drive to wait for the pumpkin farmer guy. Felix, Sean, Zach, and Kai chucked a ball between them as they waited under the shade of a large horse chestnut. Apparently, they were expecting a bumper crop of pumpkins, and had been tasked with arranging them in an artful display inside the marquee.

Mash had told me there should only be a couple of boxes in the attic, that they were clearly markedHARVEST MOON DECS, and I couldn’t miss them. But I had been searching for over twenty minutes already and still they evaded my notice, even with my phone on torch mode.

From somewhere outside, an unmistakable sound of enormous tyres crunched and popped over gravel. I balanced a sturdy wooden box under the attic’s only dormer window, climbed on top of it, and peered out. A tractor pulling the Eight and a Half Kingdoms’ largest trailer rolled into view, rolled right by the house, and disappeared towards the marquee. Muffled male voices and laughter drifted through the gaps in the roof tiles, Mash’s and Felix’s amongst the loudest.

Okay, I needed to find these boxes. I shone the light from my phone around, using the wooden crate as a lookout post. My gaze snagged on something. Not Harvest Moon decs, but a box withMASH’S SHITscribbled on the side.

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