Page 148 of The Charlie Method

I don’t want to part ways with Charlie. I want…fuck, I’m not sure what I want from this. All I know is that the idea of breaking things off with her brings a knot of pain to my gut.

When we reach our destination, I gaze at the huge AMATO RACING sign above our heads, then at the stocky, muscular man standing near the entrance smoking a cigarette. He looks to be a few years older than us, with dark hair and a multitude of tattoos.

I swivel my head toward Charlie. “What is this?”

“I’ve got a friend—that’s him over there. Dante. He lets me in after hours sometimes to drive.”

A slow grin spreads across my face. “You’re into cars?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

Her smile is sheepish. “Very much so,” she amends.

See? This woman never fails to surprise me.

We slide out of her car and step into the dark, silent night. It’s cold outside. I shove my ungloved hands into my coat pockets as I follow Charlie toward the tattooed guy. My breath escapes in white wisps that are carried away by the frigid air.

“Hi, princess,” he calls at our approach, his eyes flicking to me with mild curiosity. “So which one is this—Lars or Bjorn?”

I can’t help but snicker.

“This is Beckett Dunne,” Charlie introduces. “And sadly, he is not Swedish.”

“Pity.”

“He’s Australian, though. Which is even better, I think.”

He extends his hand toward me. “I’m Dante. Good to meet you. Any friend of Charlie’s is a friend of mine.”

“Nice to meet you, mate.” As I return the handshake, I give Dante the same inquisitive once-over. “How do you two know each other?”

“We met at a party a few years ago and bonded over cars,” Charlie explains, rubbing her hands together. She’s not wearing gloves either, and her cheeks are turning pink from the cold. “I hope it’s okay that I brought Beckett. I promise I won’t let him behind the wheel of a single vehicle.”

“Hey,” I protest. “That’s just cruel.”

Dante grins at me. “Sorry, bro. You’re on passenger duty. Especially now that I have to go.”

This startles Charlie. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I was just about to text you. Kody’s car broke down and I need to go save him.” He pulls a set of keys from his back pocket and unlocks the front doors. “But I’m gonna let you in anyway because I’d feel like an ass turning you away after you drove all the way out here. Just promise to keep it slow, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Charlie touches his arm. “I totally understand if you send us home. I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I trust you. Lock up when you’re done, and leave the keys in the lockbox. I’ll text you the code,” Dante says before passing her the key ring. Then he reaches into his pocket for another key. “Oh, and this is the only one I’ll let you drive. Be gentle with her.”

Charlie glances at the symbol on the slender black fob. “Oh my God,” she exclaims. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. I know how badly you’ve craved her.” He winks, his lips curving in a soft smile. It’s obvious he has great affection for Charlie. “I parked her out on the track for you.”

“Oh my God,” she says again.

“Leave her in the garage when you’re done.” Dante heads for the only other vehicle in the parking lot—a dusty pickup truck. “Don’t let pretty boy behind the wheel,” he calls over his shoulder.

“I won’t,” she calls back.

I’ve never been more impressed watching her navigate the facility as if she’s done this a thousand times. It doesn’t hurt that her outfit adds to the badass vibe she’s emitting—black leggings, black boots with a chunky heel, and an oversize black sweater that’s revealed when she unzips her puffy coat.

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