Page 88 of The Good Boys Club

“I mean it. If you leave Remy, I’m coming with you.”

“What about your job?” he asked.

“Hate it. Would jack it in in a heartbeat.”

“What about your apartment?”

“What about it? The only thing I like about living where I live is that you’re close by.”

“Mash.” In the mottled city lights, I caught the sadness in his expression. Nothing new for Ci. He spent a lot of his life sad, but this felt different. As though it was directed at me.

“We could . . .” I started, but stopped myself. He was either going to take it as a joke, or . . . I didn’t know, rip my heart out. But I needed to try. Right? Needed to see if this could go anywhere. “We could run away together.”

Just me and him. Everything else behind us—my job, his job, our apartments, the city, his parents, my pack, Howling Pines, my alpha responsibilities.

He raised a disbelieving eyebrow. He thought I was messing around.

I puffed out a long stream of air. My breath fogged in front of my face. “I mean it.”

Cian stared at me some more.

“I . . .” Fuck, how was I supposed to say this? How could I possibly find all the words I needed to explain how much he meant to me? “I love you.” I held my breath. Simple, honest.

“I know you do.”

I didn’t hide my frustrated groan. Every time. Every fucking time. I love you; I know. He never said it back.

“Fucking hell, Ci, I’m trying to tell you how much you mean to me. I love you, man, more than I love anybody. And if you want to move away from the city, I’m coming with you. Unless . . . of course . . . you don’t want me to.”

I waited. Waited for him to say“Don’t be silly, of course I want you to come with me,”or“I love you too, I’m sorry I’ve never said it back before,”or even“Okay, thank you, let’s run away together.”

Nothing.

He said nothing.

Just stared at me. Holding eye contact for a few seconds that seemed to stretch into an eternity. Then he closed his eyes and turned his head in the other direction.

Fuck. My heart.

If I thought it was bruised after Sam Dixon broke things off, it was nothing compared to how it felt right now.

“You don’t want me to come with you?” I said. My voice wobbled. Fucking hell, I was thirty-four years old. I needed to keep it together.

“It’s . . . complicated. I think maybe I need . . . space . . . to grow. To figure out who I am. Away from you.”

“But . . .” I was on my feet.

Shit, this hurt so much.“Away from you.”I scrubbed my hand down my face. “Are you . . . breaking up with me?”

Still, he said nothing, simply stared out into the city.

“Oh my gods,” I whimpered. I didn’t have any more coherent thoughts. Couldn’t articulate how I really felt. Was this the end of us?

“Don’t, Mash. Don’t make me feel guilty. You asked. I was just being honest . . . I can’t do this any more. It’s not normal. This isn’t how platonic friends our age treat each other. Maybe in uni, but we’re in our thirties now. You need to grow up.”

“I’m trying,” I said. I wanted to say so much more, but my throat had closed itself off to any other words.

“Look, it’s not only you, okay? I need to grow up too. I’ve been stuck wanting the same things for so long, and I have to face facts. I think we need time away from each other.”

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