Page 94 of The Charlie Method

“Let me go look. Shane’s mom stocked our cupboards with a bunch of teas when he lived here.”

Beckett disappears into the kitchen, leaving Will to smile at me again. “You can sit down, you know.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, I sit in the middle section of the U-shaped couch, close to Will.

“How was your game?” I ask, because I know they played this afternoon. That’s why we’re hanging out this late. It’s already past nine.

“Total shit show,” he says, his tone flat, “but we squeaked out the win. No thanks to my dad. He set up this TV segment about college hockey and sicced a cameraman on us.”

“Oh, I saw that when I went to your game with Blake and Gigi Graham.”

Will breaks out in another grin. “You came to a game?”

“Don’t read too much into it. I was doing it for Blake.”

“Uh-huh.” He slants his head. “Was this before or after you found out who we were?”

“Before. But that’s when I started putting it together. Who were you playing tonight?”

“Yale. Stuck-up assholes.”

I laugh, feeling some of the tension in my chest melt away. Will always puts me at ease. “Hey, I grew up fifteen minutes from New Haven.”

“Right. You’re a Connecticut girl. Does your family still live there?”

“My parents and brother. My sister is in Manhattan.”

“You’re in luck.” Beckett reappears with a big blue mug in one hand and two beer bottles in the other. “We had green tea.”

He sets the cup on a coaster near me, steam rising from the rim. Then he passes Will a beer.

“I didn’t put any milk or sugar in it. But I’ll go grab some if you want.”

“No need. This is how I like it. Thank you.”

“I live to serve you, sugar puff.”

I glare at him. “Can we retire that nickname?”

“Nope.” Winking, he twists off his bottle cap, then plops down next to me. He rests his arm against the back of the couch, right behind my head.

He smells like citrus and sandalwood, and whatever shampoo he uses must have coconut in it because I catch a whiff of that too. His crisp, clean scent reminds me of the ocean. And his nearness creates sparks of electricity in my body, reminding me why I’m here in the first place.

“So,” Beckett says in a playful tone, “what do you want to do? We could put on a movie, play some video games, or…whatever you’re in the mood for.”

My stomach flutters at the suggestion. “A movie sounds good.”

“What do you want to watch?” Will asks, reaching for the remote.

“Um. Surprise me.”

My nerves are frayed at the edges. I know I said no expectations, but it almost feels inevitable that I’ll wind up making out with them again. And maybe more. The attraction is too strong.

But while the idea of hooking up with them is thrilling, it’s also terrifying. I have no idea what to expect, and the uncertainty is killing me.

Beckett must sense the tension I’m radiating because he softens his voice. “It’s just a movie, Charlie.”

I gulp. “Okay.” I look at Will, who nods in agreement.

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