Page 183 of The Charlie Method

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “Keep going, just like that. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

I manage a weak nod, clutching his wrists like they’re a lifeline. It feels like an eternity before my breathing finally begins to even out, the panic dissipating.

But the fear remains, lurking beneath the surface, threatening to rise up again at any second.

“What if people find out?” The words spill out before I can stop them. “What if they find out about the three of us?”

“They won’t.”

“Mitch heard me talking to Beckett tonight.” I draw another breath. “I don’t think anybody is going to believe him. They’ll assume it’s a rumor. But what happens if it gets out for real?”

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

My bottom lip starts trembling. “I’m so scared of losing everything.”

“You won’t,” he promises, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I slump into him, desperate for the comfort he offers, and he wraps his arms around me, holding me close.

Beckett’s footsteps sound in the hall. He’s done with his shower. As if sensing the waves of tension rolling out of Will’s room, he appears in the open doorway, a towel secured around his trim waist.

He takes in the scene with a quick glance, his chiseled features softening when he notices me clinging to Will. “You okay?”

I nod, unable to speak. Will keeps his arms around me, but he looks up at Beckett, and something unspoken passes between them. Beckett walks over to us and crouches beside me.

“She’s okay,” Will says, then fills him in on what happened at the gala. Just hearing the recap makes my stomach roil.

“I’m sorry,” I say when I realize they’re both kneeling at my side like I’m in danger of swooning or something. “I’m okay now. It was just a panic attack.”

Beckett places his hand on my back, reassuring me. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

I peer up at him, my face still wet with tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop apologizing,” he interrupts, shaking his head.

A lump fills my throat. I gulp it down. “I hate that everyone’s talking about me now. Judging me.”

“Let them judge,” Will says. “They don’t know anything about our relationship. It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

My gaze shifts between them, a familiar knot of doubt twisting inside me. “But what if they’re right? What if this is too complicated? Too messy? I feel like I’m constantly hiding, like we’re doing something wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong. We’re not doing anything wrong.” Will tucks my hair behind my ears. “I know part of you still thinks this isn’t normal, but who cares about normal? I’ve had to work through my own doubts about all this too. There were moments I didn’t think I could handle it. But…I love you, Charlie. And I know that what we have—it’s right. For all of us.”

My breath hitches.

Did he just tell me he loves me?

“And nothing’s going to change that,” he continues, as if he hadn’t dropped an actual L-bomb. “Not some party, not some dickhead like Mitch, and definitely not what other people think.”

“Other people’s opinions matter to me, though. I wish they didn’t. But I don’t think—”

“You don’t have to think about anything right now.” Will’s thumb traces soothing circles on my arm. “Forget about everything, and just be with us.”

Beckett nods, leaning in to kiss my temple. “Let us take care of you tonight.”

The air shifts, thickening as their words sink in. I shiver from the heat of their bodies, noting the way their gazes deepen into something more…primal. My pulse careens, not from fear this time but anticipation.

“Okay,” I breathe, surrendering to the moment.

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