Page 53 of The Good Boys Club

Cian hummed to himself, and I knew he was thinking about my pack dynamics. But he said nothing. He never did. He’d already learned by now I didn’t like talking about it.

“Oh, also, before I forget,” I said. I leaned in close even though we were the only two people standing on the drive. “There’s gonna be a lot of folk about all the time for the next ten weeks, like, they’re gonna be everywhere. I need us to look like a real couple all the time in case anyone is watching. My nana has a lot of moles—the spy kind, not the super-big freckle kind. There are a lot of wolves here that wouldn’t hesitate to report back to her if they didn’t think we were totally right for each other. So, whilst we’re here, anywhere other than my room or the bathroom, I need you to pretend to be in love with me, okay?”

Cian said nothing. His body went stiff.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m asking so much of you—”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, finally finding his voice. “How should we do that?”

“I dunno, really. I’ve never been in a relationship, but I guess we could touch each other a lot?” I suggested.

“Like this?” Cian reached his hand up and as gentle as a feather, stroked along my jaw.

My body’s natural instinct was to close my eyes and lean into the caress. I fought it, but a moment later, I regretted my decision. Why was I trying to fight something I’d specifically asked him to do?

“Yeah, like that.” My voice was breathy. “Or like this.” I slapped his ass.

Cian squealed. “Ow!” he said, but he was laughing, and both of our tails were wagging. Damn, I loved having the visual indicatorof his mood. Maybe I could persuade him to keep it out all the time.

“Also wolves—all wolves but especially mated pairs—nuzzle,” I said.

“Nuzzle?”

“Mmm hmm, like this.” I held him either side of his shoulders and crouched down a little, slotting my face into the gap between his neck and shoulder. Cian sucked in a breath and I ran the tip of my nose up the column of his throat.

Holy fuck, he really did smell amazing. Suddenly, nuzzling made so much more sense to me. I could become so addicted to this. Could so easily make nuzzling Ci my entire personality.

I pulled away.

Cian’s face was pink, his mouth hung open, his tail had stopped wagging. “Um . . .” He swallowed. “Okay.”

“Also . . . we should kiss.” I tried to sound guilty, rueful, but it was too difficult. Oh, gods, he was going to assume this had been my plan all along. “Not now, but sometimes, like when we know people are looking.”

“Okay,” he said again. I couldn’t read his emotion.

“So, you should just kiss me whenever you think people might see. You don’t have to ask my permission, just do it.”

He nodded.

“And . . . do I have your permission to do the same . . . to you?”

“Yes,” he said. He didn’t even debate it. Or roll his eyes. Or make a joke. He agreed, just like that.

Cian’s gaze darted to my lips and back to my eyes . . . and then once again to my lips, where they stayed.

What was happening right now?

My heart beat so quickly and heavily in my chest I was sure he’d hear it. My palms were sweating, my mouth dry.

I wet my lips. Cian watched the movement.

Okay, so maybe we should practice a little? Here on the drive before everyone arrived and the real show began . . .

“Oi! Get a room, boys!” someone yelled from behind me. I spun round on the spot to find Dee-Dee hanging out the driver’s side window of a car I did not hear approach. “Or point us to ours.”

“Dee!” I said, holding my arms out for a hug.

She climbed out of her car—which I decided must run on mouse farts or something—and without hesitation, wrapped her arms around me.

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