The Charlie Method (Campus Diaries #3)

Chapter Thirty Charlotte

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHARLOTTE

No need to overthink

I WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING STILL FEELING THE LINGERING TENSION of everything that happened with Harrison. Faith is right, I can’t change the past, but that doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at me.

I arrive earlier than usual at the environmental sciences building because Agatha wants to talk about one of our pledges. She and Ciara are already waiting for me in the lobby, lattes in hand and unwrapped cashmere scarves hanging in front of their open designer coats.

I shrug out of my own coat as I approach the young women. Agatha gives my outfit a once-over, and I resist the urge to squirm self-consciously. My pink, pearl-buttoned cardigan is perfectly coordinated with my gray skirt, and my hair is twisted into a perfect bun without a hair out of place. There’s nothing she can find fault in, yet the way her nose wrinkles makes me feel like I showed up in tattered rags.

“My Little is such a doormat,” our sorority sister Ciara is complaining to Agatha. “I keep trying to encourage her to be more proactive and advocate for herself with her professors, but she’s too scared to make waves. Her psych prof gave her a C on her midterm, and she refuses to appeal the grade.”

I glance at Ciara. “Maybe she thinks she deserved the grade.”

“Who gives a shit? A Delta Pi can’t be bringing home C’s.” Ciara sounds annoyed.

“The more pressing matter is my Little,” Agatha says, reaching for her phone. “Charlotte, have you seen this?”

I’m about to look when a gust of cool air blows through the lobby. My heart thumps when I see Beckett enter the building, making his way toward us, all six-foot-something of him. He’s the epitome of hot jock. Broad shoulders, skin that’s still tanned long after summer, and a lazy, confident stride that makes everyone else seem to disappear.

“Morning, ladies,” he drawls.

He flashes the smile that propelled my pulse to other dimensions the night I went to their place. Part devil, part charmer. I can feel Agatha rolling her eyes before she even does it.

She doesn’t respond, just glances at her phone.

Ciara has the grace to be polite. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I murmur.

I pretend I don’t know what he looks like naked, because I’m that immature. So what if the memory of his body pressed against mine is branded into my brain? Doesn’t mean I’m going to greet him in public like we’re old friends.

But I simply don’t understand how Agatha and Ciara can look at a guy like Beckett and not start drooling. All these athletes, especially the hockey guys…their bodies are insane. The football guys are a little too bulky for me, because yes, there’s definitely such a thing as too much muscle. The lacrosse and swim guys are too lanky and toned. But a hockey body…it just hits different.

Rather than continue toward our lecture hall, Beckett plants his feet. “So what’s the plan for the weekend? Any big parties I should know about?”

Agatha doesn’t bother hiding her disdain this time. She gives him a look—a perfect mix of boredom and dismissal—and then returns her attention to her phone as if he isn’t even there.

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 reading The Virgin and the Blade ?” I demand.

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

“Bullshit. Nobody uses the word effulgent unless they’re reading The 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 should keep seeing 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 cannot wait for 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.

After class, Mitch waits for Nikki to exit our row before stepping forward to block my path. “Can we talk?”

I swallow a sigh. From the corner of my eye, I see Beckett taking his time gathering up his stuff, pushing items into his backpack at a snail’s pace. He is wholly aware of me and Mitch.

“What about?” I ask my ex.

“Can we go somewhere maybe? The Coffee Hut? My dorm?”

I almost snort. His dorm? Is he nuts?

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m going to the lab to work on my capstone. Just tell me what’s up, Mitch.”

He glances toward Beckett, who’s now walking up the aisle.

“Mitch,” I say impatiently.

“You know what? Forget it,” he mutters, then marches toward the exit as if I’ve done something to offend him. If I did, I don’t care. We’re not together anymore. We’re not even friends.

Beckett intercepts me at the door. “You in a rush?” he murmurs.

“Not really,” I say, despite what I told Mitch. The lab will still be there in five minutes. “Why?”

“I just wanted to say, I might not be good at the advice-dispensing part, but…” He shrugs. “I’m great at distractions.”

It’s back. The temptation. The deep, relentless ache that comes whenever I’m around him. Or Will. Or both of them. I told them it would never happen again. I thought that the more time that passed, the less I’d think about them.

But I’m always thinking about them.

“I’m starting to get a handle on you, Charlie,” he continues, a smile curving his lips. “You’re like Will. You’re an overthinker. And right now…you look like you could use a break from all that thinking.”

I swallow through my dry mouth. I should walk away.

Instead, I ask, “What do you suggest?”

Heat flickers through his expression. “Come with me.”

Before I know it, we’re slipping into an empty supply closet down the hall. The door clicks shut behind us, engulfing us in shadows.

“What are we doing in here, Ice Boy?” My voice sounds husky to my ears.

“Depends, sugar puff.”

“On what?”

“On whether you ask me to kiss you.”

The closet becomes impossibly quiet as his unspoken question hangs between us. All I can hear is my soft breathing and quickening heartbeat.

“Kiss me,” I whisper.

Beckett doesn’t waste any time. He pulls me against him, his lips capturing mine in a slow, fiery kiss that sends a jolt of electricity through me. Someone might come in at any moment, but I don’t care. All I can think about is how good it feels to be lost in the moment.

The kiss deepens, his tongue tangling with mine, and I moan against his mouth, melting into him. His hands are everywhere. The hunger of his kiss makes my head spin. It’s just as hot, just as exciting as the first time and all the times that followed during my night with him and Will.

When we finally break apart, breathless and flushed, Beckett is smiling down at me. “See? Sometimes a little distraction isn’t so bad.”

A frown dips my mouth as a thought suddenly occurs to me. He notices, reaching out to smooth my brow with his thumb.

“What’s wrong?”

“Would Will be mad if he knew we were in here right now, making out?”

“He wouldn’t care.” Beckett leans in, brushing his lips over my earlobe as he whispers, “We like to share, remember?”

A shiver skitters along my spine. This is so far outside the lines of anything I’d ever imagined for myself. The thrill of it is undeniable, but still, the confusion is creeping back in.

“I have a question for you.” Beckett’s voice grows surprisingly tender.

I swallow. “What is it?”

“When you think about that night… when you think about both of us…kissing you, touching you…how does it make you feel?”

I don’t answer.

“How does it make you feel?” he repeats.

“Excited,” I confess. Then I let out a soft groan. “But I don’t know how to handle this. You guys keep telling me it’s not a big deal, but I feel conflicted about being attracted to both of you.”

“To us, it’s not a big deal. And you don’t have to handle it, Charlie. Just let it be what it is. No rules, no expectations.”

I stare up at him, my heart racing. It sounds so simple when he puts it that way, but I know it isn’t. Not really.

“What if someone gets hurt?”

“Then we deal with it when it happens. But for now, just enjoy it. No need to overthink.”

I nod, even as my mind continues to race. I’m out of my comfort zone, yet I can’t deny how much I want it. How much I want to be with them again. The lines are blurring, and I’m terrified of where this might lead.

My pulse quickens when Beckett steps toward the door—and locks it. Hearing my breath hitch, he glances over with a faint smile.

“We might not want anyone barging in for this part.”

I exhale in a wobbly rush. “Which part?”

He closes the distance between us, and I shiver as his lips travel over my jaw. He reaches my mouth and hovers there. “The part where I make you come.”

Before I can blink, he’s on his knees. He tips his head back, peering up at me, waiting for my signal.

I respond by spreading my legs.

He grins. “Really. Not even an illusion of protest?”

“No. I want this.”

His hands rest on my thighs, fingertips brushing the hem of my skirt. I’m not sure if it’s the way his hands are creeping upward or the lust swimming in his eyes, but every inch of me is awake, waiting. His fingers move higher, slipping beneath my skirt, grazing the soft skin of my inner thighs, and I gasp.

He smirks. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

But I have a card or two to play myself. “I don’t know if you’d be teasing me this way,” I warn him, “if you knew what you were missing.”

Smiling, I roll my skirt all the way up so he can see my panties.

His answering groan sets the air in this cramped space on fire. “Oh my fucking God. There’s a bow.”

“Nuh-uh. There’s two bows.”

I stroke the sides of my waistband, teasing the silky pink bows.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he mumbles. “I’m dead, Charlotte.”

“Don’t die yet. Let me come on your face first.”

He gives a deep laugh. “Christ. I can’t believe I’ve been sitting two rows ahead of you all semester without ever seeing this side of you. Why have you been hiding?”

“Social necessity.”

“Well, it’s a goddamn waste. I like this Charlotte.”

He strokes my thighs, sending a ripple of warmth up my body. Then he pushes the crotch of my panties aside, exposing my pussy.

Beckett hums a sound of approval. “Fuck. So pretty, baby. Can I kiss it?”

I nod wordlessly.

He leans in, but he doesn’t do anything just yet, his lips ghosting over my skin, so close but maddeningly far.

“Beckett…” I whisper, my voice barely audible, but he hears me.

He presses his mouth to my core, and a shiver of pleasure rolls through me. I want to close my eyes, to lose myself in the moment, but I can’t stop staring at him. At the way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters.

And maybe that’s the thing that gets me—the way Beckett makes me feel like this. Like I can let go of everything, like it’s okay to be selfish for a minute. To just be here, with him, like this. He and Will are so good at that, pushing me to feel things I didn’t know I could feel and making me forget about everything else.

“You have to be quiet,” he warns against my heated flesh.

And then he starts to lick.

Lick and kiss and suck and tease until I can barely stay upright. I watch him as he pleasures me. He’s so focused, so devoted to making me feel good, like this is the only place he wants to be and the only task he wants to be doing.

My knees start trembling when he captures my clit between his lips and gently flicks his tongue over it. I almost keel over, so he brings one hand to my waist, holding me steady.

“I got you. Just keep grinding my face like that. That’s it, baby girl. Just like that.”

Every part of me is tight and hot. My clit throbs painfully, pulsing when he swirls his tongue around it. One strong hand keeps me pinned against the wall. The other moves between my thighs, two fingers sliding inside me. I rock against his eager mouth and take every ounce of pleasure he has to offer, shuddering when the orgasm finally rolls through me. Beckett stays with me for it, nuzzling my thigh, lazily thrusting his fingers, until finally he gives me one last kiss and rises to his feet.

He licks his lips. “That was fucking delicious.”

When I notice the erection straining against his jeans, I smile and reach for him. “Looks painful. Need help taking care of that?”

“You don’t have to. I was trying to distract you , remember?”

“What’s your next class?”

“Sustainable Development. Why?”

I quirk up a brow. “How are you ever going to pay attention in Sustainable Development with this big rock in your pants?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but I’m already unzipping him, pushing his jeans and boxers down. His dick slides out, thick and hard. Desire surges through me, spurring me to sink to my knees and wrap my fingers around him. When I take him in my mouth, he groans and grips my hair.

I give one long, thorough lick before peering up at him. “I have to be at the lab soon,” I say before swallowing him up.

“That your way of saying you want me to fuck your mouth hard and fast?”

I smile around his shaft, humming an assent. He groans again and gives me exactly what I asked for. He thrusts again and again, hips flexing, hands cupping my head to guide me along his length. I don’t expect him to last long, and he doesn’t.

“Goddamn, nobody’s ever made me come as fast as you do,” he grits out, and I bask in a sense of satisfaction, giddy with feminine power, as he spills down my throat. I swallow the familiar flavor that had my blood burning with need last weekend.

Breathing hard, I get to my feet and smooth out my skirt and hair. Noticing he’s still erect, I give him a teasing stroke. He gazes down at my french-tip fingernails wrapped around him, at the drop of semen still pooled at his tip.

“Babe,” he says with mischief in his eyes. “How do you feel about hand modeling?”

“What?”

“I just feel like Will should know what he missed out on.”

An evil grin spreads across my face. “You’re mean.”

“Trust me, he’ll like it.”

Beckett pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens the camera. As he focuses in on my fingers, I rub the moisture lingering on his dick. After he snaps the picture and sends it, we rearrange our clothing as best as we can and exit the closet, thankfully into an empty corridor.

Within seconds, both our phones go off.

WILL:

Fuuuuuck. You’ll both be punished for this torture, I hope you know that.

I glance at Beckett. “He’s a lot more intense than I thought he’d be.”

“Oh, trust me. Not many people know the real Larsen.”

I suspect he’s right. I’ve been starting to form my own mental picture of Will. He’s much more than the easygoing, all-American jock he portrays himself to be. Behind that cute smile is a man whose ravenous gaze devoured me when I was naked in his bed.

He’s a hot onion too, I realize. They both are. Because I have the sneaking suspicion that Beckett is not as laid-back as he seems. And that he cares a lot more than he lets on.