Page 178 of The Charlie Method

“C’mon,” Will says, lacing his fingers through mine. “Let’s go say hi.”

I notice Faith giving a nod of approval at his confidence about meeting my mom. She told me the other night that she likes Will a lot. She thinks he’s good for me.

I catch my mother’s eye, and we weave our way toward her. Her face lights up at the sight of us, her smile broadening.

“Charlotte, honey! You look beautiful.” She gives me a hug and a kiss on the forehead, then turns to Will, appraising him. “And I finally get to meet Will! You are a lot more handsome than Charlotte described,” she tells him, and he chuckles.

“Thanks,” he says, looking bashful as he bites his lip through a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kingston.”

“Please. Call me Anna.” She shakes his hand, then squeezes it with both of hers. “The pleasure is all mine. Char hasn’t told us much about you, so I’m looking forward to getting to know you better. You play hockey, I’ve heard?”

He nods. “I’m a forward for the Briar men’s team. Do you watch hockey?”

Mom laughs. “Nope! But I’m happy to hear all about it. Do you enjoy it?”

There’s genuine affection in her eyes as she chats with Will, asking him about his studies, his interests. He answers her questions with the perfect blend of charm and respect, and I can’t help but feel proud. He really is sweet, and Mom is clearly impressed by him.

As they talk, another rush of guilt floods my body.

Beckett should be here too.

I shouldn’t have to choose between them like this, decide on who gets to be my “public” boyfriend. The job fell into Will’s lap because I’d told Faith I had a movie date with him the first time I went over to their place. And it just sort of stuck.

The evening goes on, the award ceremony for my mother and the other presidential honoree coming and going, and Will stays by my side, his presence comforting and steady. But I can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. Every time I look at him, I think of Beckett and how unfair this all is. I need to talk to Beckett. Just to hear his voice, to make sure he’s okay.

“Hey,” I whisper to Will as a jazz band starts up, signaling the beginning of the dancing portion of the night. “I’m going to step outside for a minute, okay? I want to call Beck and see how he’s doing. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” he says. “Take your time.”

I slip out of the ballroom and into a quiet hallway, pulling my phone from my clutch. I dig my heels into the soft carpet and tap my french-tipped fingernails against the cream-colored wall as I wait for Beckett to pick up. He takes his sweet-ass time.

“Hey, baby,” he finally drawls. Just hearing him makes my heart ache with longing.

“Hey. I wanted to check in on you. How are you doing?”

“All good here,” he assures me, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I told you, don’t worry about me. Are you having a good time?”

“I am,” I admit. “But I wish you were here. We both do.”

“Nah, don’t feel bad, Charlie. I mean it. Enjoy the night.”

“I can’t help it—I do feel bad. But I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?” His voice drops to a low, teasing tone.

“Well… I’m thinking it’ll involve your dick and my mouth and a lot of moaning.”

His laughter tickles my ear. “I like the sound of that. Although I think your pussy might need to make an appearance too.”

The pussy in question clenches with desire. “That could be arranged.”

“Are you wet right now?”

“As of two seconds ago, soaked. I called to cheer you up, and instead you just turned me on. Thanks a lot, Beckett.”

“I won’t apologize for turning you on. Making you horny is my favorite hobby.”

I catch my lip between my teeth to tamp down a groan. “I can’t wait to fuck you later.”

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