Page 123 of The Charlie Method

Beckett chuckles, completely unbothered by the snub. “You know, you should make an effort to smile more, Agatha,” he tells her. “Your smile is absolutely effulgent—it lights up the room.”

I narrow my eyes at him. Effulgent?

“Come on, girls. Let’s go inside,” Agatha says, pushing away from the wall. “We can discuss the Littles after class.”

As my sorority sisters saunter forward, I move away from Beckett and pretend to study my phone. “I’ll be right in. Just got a missed call from my mom. I need to call her back.”

I raise the phone to my ear and keep it there until I see the lecture hall doors swing shut. Then I march back to Beckett, who hasn’t moved from his perch against the wall.

“Are you readingThe Virgin and the Blade?” I demand.

“No idea what you’re talking about, baby girl.”

“Bullshit. Nobody uses the wordeffulgentunless they’re readingThe Virgin and the Blade!”

“Again, you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

“You’re such a liar.”

As we walk toward class, he gives me a sidelong look. “You okay? You seem off.”

His assessment surprises me, because I thought I was doing a good job masking my emotions. Beckett is a lot more perceptive than he lets on.

“I’m fine.” We reach the doors, but my hand hesitates on the handle. I let it drop, biting my bottom lip. “No, I’m lying. I’m not fine.”

He’s instantly at my side, brow creased with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Remember I told you about my biological brother and how he never responded to my message?”

Beckett nods.

“Well, he tracked me down. In person.”

“Whoa. That’s huge.”

“I know,” I say, feeling the weight settling back onto my shoulders. “We met up, and it was intense. I don’t know how to deal with it. Whether I should tell my parents I’ve seen him. Whether I shouldkeepseeing him. It’s a lot to deal with.”

Beckett studies me for a moment. “You asking for advice?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just a lot to process.”

He lets out a rueful laugh. “Well, I’m the wrong guy to ask. I’m shit at giving advice. My go-to is usually to tell you to find a distraction.”

“Is that what do you do? When things become too heavy?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I find something—or someone—to distract me. Hockey. Going out with mates. You.”

The suggestive tone of his voice makes me blush. Luckily, I’m saved by our professor, who strides toward the lecture hall carrying her briefcase.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning,” I echo, before glancing at Beckett. “Thanks for the advice. Sort of.”

“Anytime.” I feel his gaze at my back as I follow our professor through the door.

I settle in my seat beside Nikki and get my laptop out. Beckett takes his own seat a minute later. This time, when I feel someone’s eyes boring into me, they belong to Mitch, who I catch frowning at me when I glance over my shoulder. I cannotwaitfor this semester to be over. Climate Policy has been nothing but a pain in my ass.

When the lecture begins, I try to focus on the material, but my thoughts—and my gaze—keep drifting back to Beckett. There’s something about that boy, damn it. Something that puts me both at ease and completely off-balance at the same time.

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