Page 82 of The Charlie Method

He shrugs. “That’s why shower sex was invented.”

I snicker.

“It’s really warm in here, right? Are you guys warm?” Her fingers are shaky as she unbuttons her sweater. “I feel like there should be air-conditioning.”

She peels the sweater off her shoulders, revealing a black tank with thin straps. She leaves the sweater on the bench seat beside her and picks up her glass again.

Someone else might think she did that on purpose. Trying to tease us. Seduce us. But Charlotte’s nerves are palpable.

I toy with the label of my beer, running my thumb through the condensation weeping from the bottle. The same riddle that stymied me in the lab takes root again.

Who is the real Charlotte?

And since I might never get this opportunity again, I decide to go ahead and ask her.

Her forehead grooves. “What do you mean, the real me?” she says after I voice the question.

“Yeah, I’m curious about this too,” Beckett pipes up. “Because on the one hand, we’ve got Charlotte.” His posture changes, straightening to look all proper. “The very studious STEM student who can’t let her GPA dip below 3.9999 and who wears these little good-girl sweaters.” He picks up the sweater she just removed. “You wore white cashmere to a pub, sugar puff. It’s a little intense.”

She frowns.

“No, don’t misunderstand,” he says in reassurance. “That prim sorority girl thing is a huge turn-on. But that’s not who you are right now, is it? This”—he lightly runs his fingers over her bare arm—“is Charlie. Charlie’s tits are practically hanging out of her top. She chose not to wear a bra to her date—”

“This tank top is technically the bra,” she mutters. “I wasn’t planning on taking off the sweater.”

“Nah,” he says. “Charlie wears it as a top. I don’t think she cares if her nipples are practically poking through the fabric or that all Will has to do is rub his thumb over one and it’ll be harder than an icicle.”

She bites her lip at the image he painted. I can’t deny my cock twitches at the thought. I also can’t deny I’ve noticed the tight little beads straining against her tank top.

“Charlie confesses all her fantasies on an app,” Beck continues. “And Charlie drove an hour and a half from her sorority house just to meet us. You’re like a double agent. I dig it.”

He’s smiling as he takes a drink.

I search Charlotte’s expression. She seems shaken by his assessment but, at the same time, not shocked to hear it.

“People have layers,” she finally says. “Different sides they show to different people. Don’t you guys have layers?”

I think about it. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“So how come you get to be multifaceted and it’s not strange?”

“No one is saying it’s strange. We’re saying we like it.”

“It’s hot,” Beckett says bluntly. “I like the idea of seeing you in class in your cashmere and pleats, knowing that you fantasize about having two dicks in you at the same time.”

She’s mid-sip when he says that, and his words trigger a coughing fit.

“Beck,” I warn.

“Sorry, mate. She’s just so easy to tease.”

Charlotte coughs, then clears her airways by draining the rest of her drink. “So you’re only teasing? That’s not a thing you do at the same time?”

Now it’s my turn to cough. “Are you asking us about double penetration?”

“At this point, is any topic really off the table?” She tips her head at me, then him. “Have you done that before?”

“We told you we don’t kiss and tell,” he chides.

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