Page 163 of The Charlie Method

We step through the doors, and Will sighs before answering, “Hey, Dad.”

I keep walking beside him, my winter boots crunching against the snow-packed path. We finally got some snow last week, and the entire campus is now a blanket of white. Will stays quiet for several long beats, and I can tell from his stiff posture that something is up. He rarely receives calls from his father that don’t stress him out.

“Another one?” he says, his voice tense. “What, theCapitolpiece wasn’t enough to boost your image?”

I catch the frustration in his expression. I hear his dad’s voice, loud and authoritative, wafting out of the phone, but I’m not close enough to make out the words.

Will clenches his jaw again, rubbing the back of his neck as he listens. “Yeah, I get it… I said I get it. I just—Fine. I’ll do it. Tell Alessia to email me the details.”

He ends the call, his shoulders slumped.

“What did he want?” I ask.

He stuffs the phone into his pocket, then slips his gloved hand through mine. “He scheduled another interview. Another puff piece about his son being a star athlete and a good role model.” The sarcasm is unmistakable. “He’s obsessed with making me look perfect in the media. It’s like he thinks I’m some kind of product he can market.”

I frown, stopping in front of him. “You don’t have to let him do this all the time. You can say no.”

Will shakes his head, offering a rueful smile. “You don’t know my father. He bulldozes you until you give in. It’s impossible to say no to him.”

The defeated cloud in his eyes breaks my heart. Will is so strong in so many ways, but his father has this power over him that makes him feel small. I hate that for him.

“You’re stronger than you think,” I say, looping my arms around his neck. My breath comes out in a white cloud. “You’re a strong, sexy, assertive man. You don’t have to let him control you.”

Will gazes down at me, his expression softening, and I can sense the internal battle he’s fighting. Like he wants to believe me, but years of his dad’s influence makes it impossible.

“Maybe,” he says gruffly, his hands resting on my waist. “But it’s not easy.”

“I know it’s not, but I have faith in you. I think you’re fully capable of extricating yourself from his control. You just need to hold your ground,” I reply before leaning up to kiss him.

The kiss is slow, meant to comfort him more than anything, but it quickly becomes something deeper, the way it always does with Will and Beckett. He relaxes against me, his arms tightening around my waist.

Just as our tongues meet, we’re interrupted by a snide voice.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.”

I spin around to see my ex-boyfriend standing on the path, watching us. Great. Ofallpeople.

Mitch’s arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes flicking between me and Will.

“Hey, Mitch,” I say, trying to keep my voice light.

“Hey, Charlotte,” he says, mimicking my tone. He smirks, taking a step toward us. “Are you going to introduce us?”

“Oh. Uh. Sure. Mitch, this is Will.” I don’t elaborate.

My ex notes Will’s jacket and flattens his lips. “Hockey guy, huh?”

Will stiffens, his protective instincts kicking in. “You’ve got a problem with that?”

Mitch sizes him up, then shrugs. “No problem. Just wondering how long it’ll take before Charlotte gets bored of your dick and moves on. Like she always does.”

Irritation courses through me, but before I can say anything, Will steps in front of me, blocking Mitch’s view. “Watch your mouth,” he cautions.

My ex sneers. “What are you gonna do? Hit me?”

“Maybe,” Will replies, his voice calm but with an edge that makes it clear he isn’t joking.

Mitch’s bravado falters for a second. Then he masks it with another derisive look. “Whatever, man. She’s all yours. Good luck with that.”

---