Page 158 of The Good Boys Club

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes . . . and no. Not so much hurt, more like when you’re exhausted and your body is already in shutdown mode, you know?”

Cian nodded.

“It was as though a massive, invisible . . . squisher was squishing me down. And then it all stopped and I could move.”

“Do you feel different now? Like, do you feel like an alpha?”

“Hmmm . . .” I thought about it. “No, not really.” Because I still felt the same. “I’ve always been regal as fuck.”

Cian laughed. “This is true.” He brought his mouth to mine and kissed me gently. “Majestic Mash.” He kissed me again. “So, what’s your first order as leader of the pack?”

I didn’t need to think about this one. “Well, to start, hand jobs for the alpha and his beta.”

“And then?” Cian couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

“And then bangers and mash every Sunday for tea.”

“I like it. It’s Sunday today, by the way,” he said, as his hand slipped further into my sweatpants.

“What an unusual and freaky coincid—” The rest of my sentence was lost to the hitch of my breath as my mate wrapped his fingers around me.

Tying the Knot

Eleven Months Later

Sixteen Years After Meeting at Remy University

Cian

“Okay, okay, okay, I got one,” Mash said, bursting into the room I’d slept in last night. The one that used to belong to his sisters and was now a guest bedroom. Not that it would stay that way for long; we had other plans for the space—big plans.

“What are you doing? Shut your eyes. We’re not supposed to see each other before the mating ceremony,” I called back, slamming one hand over my face and the other held out to ward Mash off.

“I can’t shut my eyes, I’m eight months pregnant. Don’t you know how dangerous that is to baby? I could bump into something and knock the kiddo right out of my bum.”

I sighed, but still didn’t look. We’d spent the night in separate rooms because I liked the idea of keeping everything mysterious until our ceremony. Mash and his gang of werewolves had so many traditions; I wanted to add at least one of my own.

Not that we’d had any customs in my family growing up. We tended to follow the human way of doing things, and in human weddings, grooms would see each other at the aisle for the first time that day.

In hindsight, with my hand over my face, my jacket half on, and the smell of Mash invading my nostrils, it seemed like the stupidest tradition ever.

“I can’t see you in your mating suit. It’s bad luck.” Or whatever.

“Lucky for you, I’m not in my mating suit. No, I’m still in my birthday suit, and I have the best baby-name idea,” Mash said.

“You’re naked? The ceremony is in forty-five minutes.” Gingerly, I removed my fingers from my eyes in case he was lying. He was. Sort of. He had underpants and sliders on and nothing else. His phone was in his hand. Now that we had decent Wi-Fi at Howling Pines, he took it everywhere with him.

“Good morning, songbird of my soul,” he said, when he could finally make eye contact.

“It’s the afternoon,” I corrected. And he still wasn’t dressed. Not that it was easy for him to dress himself with his baby bump, but he was supposed to be getting help. “Where’s Clem?”

“She’s gone to get me some food. It’s very taxing keeping this thing satisfied. Baby is hungry all the time.” He wrapped his hands around the bottom of his belly.

His enormous belly. It stuck out precariously in front of him and bumped into everything. He’d said the reason it was so big was“just a werewolf thing,”though in reality it was because the man didn’t stop eating. Which suited me fine because cooking for him and our unborn child was my love language.

“Okay, what’s this best baby name you’ve concocted? It better not be a repeat of last time.”

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