The Good Boys Club (Mythical Mishaps #2)

24. Gone with the Woof

Gone with the Woof

Present Day

Cian

I’d spent the past two weeks toggling between wanting to confess everything to him and keeping quiet. Tell Mash I knew there was an expiry date on us , but I didn’t know when that’d be, or . . . just not say anything. Keep my mouth shut.

The last thing I wanted to do was burst this bubble we were currently existing in.

We’d settled into a routine, and life at Howling Pines had become comfortable. Enjoyable even. And everything felt so . . . dreamlike. A fairy tale. Or something from one of his rom-com movies.

I couldn’t do any work for Howl because of the dearth of Wi-Fi and generally any connection to the outside world, but James didn’t seem to mind. The few emails I had been able to send and receive told me my boss was enjoying his Harvest Fest break as much as I was, and whenever I’d managed to get a message through to Gideon asking how everything was going there, he’d fire one back saying, super. I always read it in Giddy’s deadpan drawl.

We’d flipped the calendar page on August. September was upon us, but every time I asked Mash about uni or whether he needed to make arrangements, he’d point to something on the horizon only he could see. I put two and two together.

Either he’d lost his job during the summer holidays, or he had already decided to start his new life as the alpha of Pack Cassidy, and he wasn’t planning on returning. Or only returning to sort shit out, and then he’d head back here.

Or perhaps it was a bit of both.

It hurt, but at least I now had a reasonable idea of how much longer we had left together.

On a typical day, I’d wake up in Mash’s arms. The pillow we’d tucked between our hips would have been mysteriously discarded on the floor during the night. We would both be hard, of course, the scent of us impossible to ignore. It drew things from within our nature, our very DNA, like a primal instinct. Though after a few days, the smell faded, and Mash and I had to reapply. The mornings after the reapplications were always the hardest—the most difficult to ignore. I’d have to “sort out” my situation in the shower before starting my day, or in the bed if Mash was already using the shower to “sort out” his.

“This is a new record for you,” I’d said one morning. “Three weeks without sex.”

“I’ve gone longer, but my wrist is fucking killing me. This is what yours must be like all the time,” he’d replied.

I’d shrugged because I had nothing to counter with.

After our wanks, we’d have breakfast in the kitchen. Sometimes Rita was there doing the crossword puzzle in her newspaper. Sometimes Kimmy was there in her overalls, getting ready for a day in the workshop. Sometimes Dylan and Riley were there munching on marmalade on toast. It would have been a great opportunity to talk shop, but I didn’t because the reality was, one, I couldn’t figure out a way to bring the job opening into conversation, and two, I spent most of my time ensuring Dylan did not linger her touch on Mash, and that Mash did not make dreamy sex eyes at her.

It was irrational. I knew it was fucking irrational. But I could not stop the angry wolf inside me seething with envy any time the pair got too close. And I wasn’t the only one. I’d heard Riley’s throaty growls when Dylan greeted Mash with a kiss on the cheek.

Mash had told me about Dylan and Riley’s secret relationship, but it still did nothing to dampen the flames of envy.

“You and I need to form some kind of alliance,” Riley said to me one morning.

“We should take turns making sure they keep their hands off each other.”

“Is he like this with everyone?”

I’d nodded. “Unfortunately. He’s always been like this.”

“Well, that makes me feel a little better, but until we’re official, I can’t scent her. So nobody yet knows she’s not to be messed with.”

During the day, Mash and I would go for hikes on the Howling Pines reserve, or fish at the lake, or Mash would nap in the field while I sat on a blanket and read. I helped in Clem’s kitchen almost daily. There were a lot of wolves staying with her who needed feeding, although meal times there were less formal and a lot more spread out than the official moon feasts.

I started becoming very accustomed to holding my tail and ears out, and on occasion had even forgotten I was doing it, only remembering when Mash pointed it out later. I’d also been working on partially shifting another part of my anatomy ready for the next full moon, but the results were mixed. It was very taxing, morphing my foreskin back and not getting a chub. I don’t know why those things went hand in hand. There was something about the sensation and the cool air that seemed to excite me. Perhaps if I emptied my tanks before we all headed into the marquee to strip off, I might get away with it.

Sometimes we’d meet up with the different members of Mash’s pack and have lunch or walk around the tiny town of Lykos. I got to know each of them a little better. We’d met up with Clem and Sean and the kids and went to the local movie theatre.

Felix was quiet and reserved. He had that whole contemplative, mopey “fourteen-year-old with the weight of the world on his shoulders” vibe to him. I felt that on a soul-deep level. I’d ridden that train. Probably never left the station to be fair.

Juno was a typical preteen younger sister. She acted like it was her personal life’s mission to embarrass her brother. Mash realised quickly the way to resolve this was to buy Juno candy, and even though she was twelve going on nineteen, cuddly toys. He bought her an—admittedly very cute—stuffed mothman which he’d named Giddy. Juno was smitten, with both the toy and her uncle.

One time we met up with Mash’s sister Alba and her partner, Jade, in a charming cafe in town. They lived farther north in the city of Gwindur, which boasted the largest werewolf population of anywhere. When they asked where I was from, Bordalis slipped out without any brain engagement from me, and when Mash couldn’t remember the name of my fake alpha, Alba slapped her hand down onto the table.

“I knew it. You’re not really were, are you?” she said.

Mash sshed her.

“Oh, we don’t care, do we?” Alba said to Jade. “That’s why we left. They’re so claustrophobic sometimes. It’ll be good to diversify the pack. It’s outdated to think werewolves these days won’t fall in love with other species.”

“So, you’re shifter then?” Jade had asked excitedly.

Mash lowered his voice to barely a whisper, glancing over at the other tables to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. “Yes he is, and no, he’s not showing you his foreskin.”

Which made Alba snort peppermint tea from her nostrils.

Another time we hung out with Mika and her partner Atlas. Mash and I had practiced my backstory before we left Howling Pines, just in case. My alpha’s name was Bane Thornhill, and my pack was Thorn Shadow, and I hailed from the fictional werewolf town of Ruffsford, and if anyone were to ask any further questions, Mash gave me strict instructions to be “vague as fuck.”

Turned out Mika was pregnant, and Atlas was diligently nest building. They had a one-bedroom cottage on the Howling Pines estate, which was in the process of becoming a three-bedroom cottage.

And then we met up with Zach and Kai at Lykos’s Saturday Harvest Fest market, where we stuffed our faces with stone-baked bread, and artisanal jams, and home-brewed craft ales, and eighteen-month cave-matured Cheddar, and harissa-smoked mackerel, and mortadella, and salted-caramel butter fudge, and the most perfect full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon I’d ever had wrapped around my tongue.

I’d had it in my head that Zach would be the most difficult of Mash’s pack to win over, but the pair were hilarious, and all four of us had not stopped laughing.

For most of the day, Mash draped his arm over my shoulder. I assumed he was play-acting the part of my doting mate, but the times when we weren’t hip to hip, I often caught him staring over at me, a sleepy stoner kind of smile on his face, before he’d whip his gaze away.

Originally, at uni, Mash had told me he’d left this town because Lykos was a wasteland for bumpkins and tumbleweeds. But I was beginning to realise he’d been lying to both of us . . . probably to spare his own feelings. The town was so much more than that.

No, Mash had left to buy himself more time, and to run from his responsibilities.

But he belonged here. The townsfolk loved him. The town itself seemed to love him. He was great with everyone, old folk and kids alike, and his entire family seemed to relish his return.

“Hey, will you boys take Felix fishing or somewhere, anywhere, and maybe just . . . have a chat with him?” Clem had asked one day when Mash came to pick me up from my cheffing duties at the B&B. “He’s at that age where he won’t speak with me or his father, and he really looks up to you.”

“Of course he does, I’m his favourite uncle,” Mash had said.

“Not you, he looks up to Ci,” she’d replied.

I understood because I’d seen a lot of myself in Felix, and Mash was . . . well, Mash. He was too perfect. Never had a problem nor worry in his life. Except maybe this whole alpha stuff.

“Sure, we’d love to,” I said.

Later that day, we picked Felix up from Lykos Academy and drove straight to the jetty on the lake, where we set up three chairs and three rods on the deck. We tried to “have a chat” with Felix but we were met with one-word answers.

“What’s it like being back at school?” Mash asked.

“Fine,” Felix said, staring out at the smooth surface of the water.

“Does Mrs Brown still teach there?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Mr Wheeler? He was . . . a character.”

“Retired.”

“What kind of hobbies do you have, Felix?” I asked.

“Gaming.”

It was painful. “What’s your favourite game?”

Felix shrugged.

“So, uh,” Mash began, “Have you tried drugs yet?”

“Mash, fucking hell!” I said.

Felix perked up. “No. Have you got any?”

“I’m not giving my fourteen-year-old nephew drugs. Come back when you’re sixteen.”

I pelted Mash with my empty cola can.

“Eighteen then, fuck.” Mash leant back in his chair to look at me over the arch of Felix’s spine and mouthed, “Help me.”

“So . . .” I began, but Felix started speaking.

“Ci, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“How old were you when you realised you’re gay?”

Behind Felix, Mash mouthed, “Oh, shiiiiit.”

“Um . . .” I thought about it. “I think on some level I’ve always known. Like even when I was young. I just found myself drawn to male cartoon characters, and male movie stars and pop stars, and then when I started to want . . . things, I only ever pictured guys.”

Felix hummed to himself. Evidently, it wasn’t the answer he’d wanted to hear. He turned his attention back to the lake.

“Have you ever liked any of the girls at your school?” Mash asked.

“Oh, I’m not talking about me. This is about . . . my friend.”

“Obviously, your friend, duh. I meant, has your friend ever liked any of the girls at your school?”

“Yeah,” Felix said.

“And now your friend likes a guy at school? Or is this hypothetical?” I said.

Felix sucked at his teeth. Picked at the loose thread on his school trousers. “There’s a new boy at school, Jacob . . .” He paused and Mash and I waited for him to fill the silence. “My friend likes Jacob. Like, really likes Jacob. But my friend has only ever thought about girls in that way before.”

“Sounds as though your friend might be bi,” Mash said. “Which is cool. All the best people in the Eight and a Half Kingdoms are bi, including me.”

“Yeah, obviously,” said Felix. But I hardly heard him. My heart was beating a mile a minute.

I leaned my back flat against the chair’s backrest and looked at Mash. He was staring right at me. It was all for show. Mash was straight. He’d said it to make a point to his nephew, but . . .

“Are you really?” I mouthed the words.

Mash shrugged. “Maybe.”

Holy fuck! My hands were in my hair. I tried to calm my manic heartbeat. Fuck. What? Fuck.

“When?” No sound came out. I cleared my throat. “Uh, Mash, I think it might be helpful for Felix’s friend if you told us exactly when you knew you were bi?” I realised I phrased it as a question, but the words were getting squeakier as the sentence went on.

Mash took a sharp inhalation. Felix looked at him. “Okay.” He looked at me and in his features I saw only an apology. Was he apologising because he’d never told me before, or was he apologising because he was about to fabricate a story to make his nephew feel less isolated? “I was twenty-one.”

“Oh,” I said before I could slap my hand over my mouth. That would have put us in our final year of our undergrad degree.

“Twenty-one? That’s old,” Felix said.

“What . . . um . . . how did you know?”

Mash chewed on his lip for what seemed like forever before answering. “I went to a party with Ci. He—you had a boyfriend . . . Charley? You were kissing him. I thought to myself, I wish that was me.”

I swallowed.

Mash continued to talk. “And then another time when we were buying suits for Uncle Zach and Uncle Kai’s mating . . . I . . . uh . . .” He gave me an apologetic smile. “I did the buttons up on Ci’s jacket and I decided I’d never seen a more beautiful man.”

“Mash?” I was on my feet, until Felix frowned at me and I realised this should not be news. I sat down again.

“When did you guys go from being friends to being in love?” Felix asked.

I couldn’t answer. Mash would know I’d been madly in love with him since the second I laid eyes on him. But I didn’t need to answer. Mash spoke.

“Winter Fest last year, before I came here to see you guys.”

Something odd settled in my gut. The Winter Fest thing had been the story we discussed before, but now there was something else, an element of forgotten truth to it. I racked my brain trying to remember the evening.

We’d been partying in the restaurant on the ground level. I’d become overwhelmed with the noise levels, and the heat, and the sheer number of drunken colleagues—people I deeply detested —and had fled to the building’s rooftop. Mash had arrived a few moments later, and we’d smoked a joint. He’d duct taped chocolate bars to the inside of his suit jacket. And we’d chatted. He’d said . . . Fuck, what had he said?

I’d spoken about quitting my job. About how much I hated it. I had . . . told him I wanted to leave Remy. I was sure of it. And he’d said . . .

No, I couldn’t remember what he’d said. I could only picture his sad puppy-dog eyes.

Shit, had Mash been crying that night?

Gods, I was a terrible friend.

Felix nodded, pulling my thoughts from that Winter Fest party. His rod bounced, and he leaned forward and fiddled with the reel.

I leant back in my chair again and whispered to Mash, “Is this real? Is this really happening?”

Mash didn’t answer. He just stared at me, his brow furrowed, his eyes glistening in the evening sun. He looked tearful, or like he was going to be sick. He swallowed, never broke eye-contact.

“So, perhaps you could invite your friend and Jacob to the Harvest Moon shift in two weeks, and if your friend can’t make it, oh well, maybe you could show Jacob around the reserve,” Mash said, still looking at me.

“Do you think Mum would mind?” Felix said. The fish hadn’t bitten.

“Of course not. She loves you and wants you to be happy.” Then Mash looked at me and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t concentrate on anything, and I couldn’t think about anything except what had just happened. I replayed every encounter between Mash and me which could have been an indicator of his real feelings. Was he lying? Or had he been great at hiding them? Or had I just been extremely naive and stupid?

Did he know about my feelings for him? And if he did, why the fuck had he not said anything before?

He avoided looking at me for the rest of the evening, but Felix seemed a little less sullen.

Eventually, Mash looked at his watch and declared it time to drop Felix home. We got in my car, Felix in the back, and I drove to Clem’s B&B.

“I don’t need bodyguards,” Felix said as both Mash and I stepped out to escort him to reception.

“I just need to have a chat with your uncle,” I said.

“Oh, fuck,” Mash huffed.

And then he legged it down the road.