Page 79 of The Good Boys Club

He piled Clem’s three pieces of baklava into his palm. She side-eyed me but smirked at her brother.

Mash leaned closer to me. “Seriously, babe, are you okay?”

Babe? I wanted to call him on it. I didn’t. “Yes, I’m fine . . .babe,”I said, adding extra emphasis to the term of endearment.

Mash had called me a lot of things in our fifteen years of friendship—mate, buddy, bestie, darling, sweetheart, the light of his life, his sun his moon his stars, the angel of his paradise—but never babe. I knew it was all for show, but it didn’t stop my heart from fluttering.

“Good.” He blew me a kiss and walked back to his seat with Clem’s stolen baklava.

“Damn, I was looking forward to that,” she said.

“You just let him take it,” I said.

“He’s my littlest bro. He could murder someone, and I’d ruffle his hair and tell him how cute he was. Besides, did you see how protective he was of you?”

I did see that, and I fucking loved it. I placed my last two baklava slices on Clem’s plate. “You have them. I still have clumped nuts on my uvula.”

“TMI!” she whined.

“It’s the dangly thing at the back of your throa—oh, you’re just taking the piss.” I laughed, rolled my eyes. I had thought it was a bit rich crying TMI when she’d been the one to bring rimming to the dining table.

It was at that moment I decided I really liked Clem. And maybe if Mash was going to be stuck in this tiny town he hated so much for the rest of forever, at least he’d have his sister.

“Can I be real with you for a sec?” she said, her expression morphing from sibling rivalry to motherly affection in a heartbeat.

“Sure,” I replied, even though panic was flooding my system.

“You should just tell him you know about the alpha thing. It would make his life much easier. He’s so worried that you’re going to turn around and leave because this isn’t the life you chose, it’s been forced upon you.”

Oh boy, my instincts had been right.

I could admit to Mash that I knew, but . . . how? I’d never been very good at admitting things to Mash, and I couldn’t see that changing any time soon.

Or I could pretend I was none the wiser and enjoy the ignorance.

Clem and Rita and Kimmy all had the wrong end of the stick. It wasn’t a case of me rejecting Mash, it was simply that we were never meant to be together in that way. Because if we were, well, wouldn’t it have already happened by now?

“I’m going to give him the opportunity to tell me himself. I think I owe him that much—or . . . he owes me—but if the chance comes up, I’ll let him know I’d never reject him. He’s mysoul mate. I’d follow him to the ends of the Eight and a Half Kingdoms.”

“I know.” Clem placed her hand on the back of mine. “Now, the tricky part is, because you’re not werewolf the pack will have to vote on whether to accept you as one of us.”

“A vote?” I said, pretending like it mattered either way.

“Yes, but no, because it has to be unanimous.”

“What, really?”

She nodded solemnly. “Because once you’re welcomed into the pack, you become family. Everyone who is already part of the pack has to agree.”

“Does this happen with werewolf partners?” It seemed awfully speciesist.

“It can do. If you were full were, but say I had a problem with you, I would take that to Alpha and she would decide. So let’s say we vote for your acceptance, and everyone but me votes yes, ultimately Alpha gets the choice.”

“So even if someone says no, your Nana could still override them?”

Clem grimaced. “Yes, in theory, but my nana is the one you’ll struggle most to get approval from.”

“Noted,” I said, but I didn’t bother to think about it any more. It wouldn’t reach the point of a pack appraisal vote.

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