Page 84 of The Charlie Method

“I, ah, meant not here,” I stammer. “Not in this booth.”

They’re both trying not to grin.

“This is a date, right?” I ask, shifting my gaze between them.

They nod.

“Well, I’m not one of those I-don’t-kiss-on-the-first-date girls. I’m fine with kissing. But…um…maybe when you’re walking me to my car or something.”

My heart careens at the idea.

What is wrong with me?

I really, really, really want them. God, even Beckett, who’s been annoying the hell out of me all semester. I want nothing more than to know what his lips taste like. What Will’s tongue feels like in my mouth.

They’re not wrong—Iamtwo people. But, and it’s hard to put into words, it’s not like either part of me is fake. The straitlaced sorority girl is just a part of my personality that naturally comes out when I’m in that house, being judged and criticized by the likes of Agatha. And my overachiever side comes out around my family, because I want to…

Fit in.

I suppose that’s my biggest flaw. My Achilles’ heel. This deep-rooted desire to fit in among my peers, my family.

Thispart of my personality—Charlie, the girl sitting in a bar wearing a tank top with no bra—doesn’t fit in at Delta Pi. Doesn’t entirely fit in with her family. But here, in the presence of Will Larsen and Beckett Dunne, she’s never felt more comfortable.

The next time the waiter returns, the guys order another round of beers. I’ve maxed out my alcohol intake, so I ask for a soda.

“You’re thinking again,” Will accuses.

I meet his amused eyes and sigh. “I’m always thinking. My inner monologue never stops.”

“And what’s it saying right now?”

Warmth suffuses my cheeks. “That I like both of you, and I don’t think I want to choose.”

Beckett shrugs. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to choose.”

“What if I decide I want just one of you?” I challenge.

“Hmm.” Will tilts his head in thought. “So you’re saying you want us to compete for your favor?”

A grin touches my lips. “If I did, how exactly would you compete?”

Beckett takes my hand, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles over my palm. “We could see who can make you come faster?”

I choke on a laugh. “That scenario still allows both of you to have me.”

“Oh, does it?” He blinks innocently.

Laughing too, Will brushes his fingers along my jawline while Beckett continues to stroke my palm.

My pulse quickens. The dual sensations of their hands on my skin trigger a flurry of sparks through my body. The thrill of being the center of their attention is intoxicating.

I don’t think Icouldchoose, even if they asked me to. They’re both so different. Beckett with his buckets of charm. Will with the laid-back smile that covers the intensity simmering beneath the surface.

“You know what I think?” Will’s eyes lock onto mine. “I think you don’t want us to fight for you. I think you want to see what happens when we work together.”

I imagine myself, my naked body, being caught between them, and an honest-to-God moan slips out.

They both smile.

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