The Charlie Method (Campus Diaries #3)

Chapter Thirty-Five Beckett

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

BECKETT

Yeah, that’s the one

T HE DRIVE IS MOSTLY QUIET, BUT IT ’ S A COMFORTABLE SILENCE . I T’S SO easy to be with Charlie. I don’t need to impress her or fill every pause with random conversation. She’s happy to sit in the driver’s seat and sing along to the pop songs wafting from the car speakers, every now and then turning to flash me the smile that makes my chest clench. She’s gorgeous.

I haven’t pressed her any further about where we’re going. I’ve already asked twice since she grabbed me from Hastings, to which she’d shrugged and told me to wait and see.

Only proving that Charlotte Kingston has many more layers just waiting to be unraveled.

I didn’t expect to like her this much. But the more time Will and I spend with Charlie, the more I find her getting under my skin. She’s so damn smart, able to hold her own in any conversation, any topic you throw her way. She makes me laugh my ass off. She gets my dick harder than anyone ever has.

And this is the first time I’ve ever felt…dread. Genuine anxiety about this arrangement coming to an end. Because it always does. The woman gets bored of it, the novelty of being with two men wearing off. Or she catches feelings for one of us, the way Caitlin did at the beginning of the semester. And then it ends. We all part ways.

I don’t want to part ways with Charlie. I want…fuck, I’m not sure what I want from this. All I know is that the idea of breaking things off with her brings a knot of pain to my gut.

When we reach our destination, I gaze at the huge AMATO RACING sign above our heads, then at the stocky, muscular man standing near the entrance smoking a cigarette. He looks to be a few years older than us, with dark hair and a multitude of tattoos.

I swivel my head toward Charlie. “What is this?”

“I’ve got a friend—that’s him over there. Dante. He lets me in after hours sometimes to drive.”

A slow grin spreads across my face. “You’re into cars?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

Her smile is sheepish. “Very much so,” she amends.

See? This woman never fails to surprise me.

We slide out of her car and step into the dark, silent night. It’s cold outside. I shove my ungloved hands into my coat pockets as I follow Charlie toward the tattooed guy. My breath escapes in white wisps that are carried away by the frigid air.

“Hi, princess,” he calls at our approach, his eyes flicking to me with mild curiosity. “So which one is this—Lars or Bjorn?”

I can’t help but snicker.

“This is Beckett Dunne,” Charlie introduces. “And sadly, he is not Swedish.”

“Pity.”

“He’s Australian, though. Which is even better, I think.”

He extends his hand toward me. “I’m Dante. Good to meet you. Any friend of Charlie’s is a friend of mine.”

“Nice to meet you, mate.” As I return the handshake, I give Dante the same inquisitive once-over. “How do you two know each other?”

“We met at a party a few years ago and bonded over cars,” Charlie explains, rubbing her hands together. She’s not wearing gloves either, and her cheeks are turning pink from the cold. “I hope it’s okay that I brought Beckett. I promise I won’t let him behind the wheel of a single vehicle.”

“Hey,” I protest. “That’s just cruel.”

Dante grins at me. “Sorry, bro. You’re on passenger duty. Especially now that I have to go.”

This startles Charlie. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I was just about to text you. Kody’s car broke down and I need to go save him.” He pulls a set of keys from his back pocket and unlocks the front doors. “But I’m gonna let you in anyway because I’d feel like an ass turning you away after you drove all the way out here. Just promise to keep it slow, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Charlie touches his arm. “I totally understand if you send us home. I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I trust you. Lock up when you’re done, and leave the keys in the lockbox. I’ll text you the code,” Dante says before passing her the key ring. Then he reaches into his pocket for another key. “Oh, and this is the only one I’ll let you drive. Be gentle with her.”

Charlie glances at the symbol on the slender black fob. “Oh my God,” she exclaims. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. I know how badly you’ve craved her.” He winks, his lips curving in a soft smile. It’s obvious he has great affection for Charlie. “I parked her out on the track for you.”

“Oh my God,” she says again.

“Leave her in the garage when you’re done.” Dante heads for the only other vehicle in the parking lot—a dusty pickup truck. “Don’t let pretty boy behind the wheel,” he calls over his shoulder.

“I won’t,” she calls back.

I’ve never been more impressed watching her navigate the facility as if she’s done this a thousand times. It doesn’t hurt that her outfit adds to the badass vibe she’s emitting—black leggings, black boots with a chunky heel, and an oversize black sweater that’s revealed when she unzips her puffy coat.

It’s eerie being at a racetrack at night. The dark, empty grandstand is unnerving, and as we walk by it, I keep expecting a knife-wielding killer to jump out of the shadows and fillet us. When we reach the edge of the track, my pulse speeds up. Overhead, the winter sky is dotted with stars. The asphalt beneath our feet is dimly lit under the moon, but the red Ferrari parked on it gleams like a live wire.

Charlie shrugs out of her jacket and gestures for me to do the same. We leave our stuff on a nearby ledge, and I grin as she stalks toward the Ferrari with honest-to-God hunger in her eyes.

I can’t wrap my head around the fact that she comes all the way out here in the middle of the night to drive sports cars. If you told me that my prim little sugar puff did this sort of stuff for fun, I would’ve laughed in your face.

“You seriously do this? Like, all the time?”

She casts a mischievous smile over her shoulder. “It’s my thing. My way to let off steam.”

“Most people hit the gym or, I don’t know, eat ice cream when they’re stressed.”

“I’m not most people.”

No, she’s really not.

I walk to the sports car, running my hand over the smooth, red metal. “This is crazy in the best way possible.”

“Wait until you’re actually in the car.”

Before I can respond, she slides into the driver’s seat like she owns the thing, and the sound of the door latching echoes in the still night. She motions for me to join her. My heart kicks into overdrive, anticipation tickling my gut as I climb in beside her. I sink into the passenger seat, surrounded by the smell of leather and gasoline.

When Charlie revs the engine, I swear I feel the power of it. The low, throaty growl vibrates down my spine and makes my balls tingle.

“Buckle up,” she warns, her eyes glinting under the dashboard lights. “I don’t do slow.”

“Oh yeah? Show me what you got, baby.”

Without another word, she shifts into gear and floors the gas pedal, and we shoot forward so fast I’m slammed back into my seat.

“Holy shit!” I grip the door handle for dear life.

Charlie laughs. A wild, carefree laugh that sends ripples of lust right to my dick.

“Hold on, baby ,” she mimics. “This is just the warm-up.”

She takes the first turn at what feels like an impossible speed, but I’m relieved to see how in control she is, how easily she navigates the curves, her hands fluid on the wheel. She’s clearly done this often. And it’s…hot. Terrifying, but hot.

“This is bloody awesome!”

“I told you!” she answers over the roar of the engine. Her gaze never leaves the track as we hit another sharp bend. “It makes me feel free, you know? No pressure, no expectations. Just me, the car, and the speed.”

I’m seeing her in an entirely different light tonight. Completely in her element. Confident. Wild. Free. It brings a strange clench of emotion to my chest, a sense of…longing.

But I force myself to ignore it. I’m not catching feelings for this girl. I just like how adventurous she is.

We speed through the next stretch, the track flying by. I can’t stop grinning. Will is going to be jealous that he missed out on this. His dumb ass decided to go drinking with Colson tonight.

Suddenly, we’re taking a hairpin turn at what feels like light speed. The Ferrari drifts, and for a moment, I feel like we’re flying.

“Charlie, swear to God, if we crash this thing, I’m haunting you from the afterlife,” I say, but my laughter bubbles up, my adrenaline feeding into hers.

She just grins and hits the gas again. The track stretches out before us, a blur of asphalt and floodlights as she pushes the Ferrari faster, the speedometer climbing higher with each passing second.

“Do I really not get to drive?” I demand.

“Nope. Dante will kill me.”

“Aw, please? I didn’t come all the way out here just to ride shotgun.”

“You didn’t even know you were coming here!”

“C’mon,” I plead.

“Nope!”

“You’re evil.” Although maybe it’s for the best. I don’t want that Dante dude beating the shit out of me for scratching his Ferrari.

My gaze locks on Charlie as she slows the car, the hiss of the wind beyond the windows beginning to quiet.

“You’re incredible,” I tell her.

She glances over, those big eyes shining.

I reach across the center console, dragging my fingertips along the side of her throat. I smile when she shivers. “I love seeing this side of you. You should let it out more often.”

“Maybe I would,” she admits, “if I didn’t feel like I had to keep it all bottled up.”

She steers the Ferrari toward what looks like an airplane hangar. As we get closer, I realize it’s a garage. She drives through the gaping entrance and pulls to a stop, the engine humming softly beneath us before going silent.

I slide my hand over hers where it rests on the gear shift. “You don’t have to bottle anything up. You don’t have to hide from me or from Will. We want to see all of you. The good, the bad, the wild.”

She turns to face me, biting her lip. “You really mean that?”

I stroke her cheek. Her skin is so damn soft. “I always mean what I say.”

It’s like something inside her cracks open at my words, her walls crumbling as she leans in to kiss me. Slow at first, tender, but the hunger quickly grows, fueled by the adrenaline still coursing through our veins.

Charlie unbuckles her seat belt so she can angle her body toward me. Her chest is rising and falling, lips slightly parted. She’s turned on. So am I.

Her soft lips and the warmth of her tongue cause the rest of the world to fade away. I don’t care about the past or the future, only the here and now and the way this girl makes me feel so fucking alive.

We break apart just long enough for me to grab her by the waist and pull her across the console and onto my lap. I grip her hips as my lips crash over hers in another heated kiss. She moans into my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair.

“Fuck,” I mumble. “I want you so bad right now.”

She tugs at my shirt, pulling it over my head. “Then take me,” she mumbles back.

Our mouths meet again, and I’m slipping my hands beneath her sweater when I remember something.

I pry my lips away. “Hey, remember our chats on the app? Your fantasy?”

“Which one? We texted so many things that I—” She stops, understanding dawning. Her cheeks turn the sweetest shade of pink.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” I confirm. “You still game?”

She moans in response, and I don’t need any more encouragement than that. I open the car door and step out, lifting her with me. The garage boasts a chill, but someone—Dante, I suppose—must’ve been working here for a while with the heaters blasting, because warmth lingers in the air. The large space is barely lit, illuminated only by the bluish glow of the security lights.

Charlie presses her body against mine, her lips finding my neck as I walk her toward the front of the car.

“Right here?” I ask, low, teasing. But I already know the answer.

“Right here.”

A surge of desire rips through me. I lay her down on the hood, the red Ferrari glinting beneath her as she gazes up at me, flushed and needy. When I rest my hands on either side of her body, the cooling metal against my palms is a sharp contrast to the heat between us. I bend my head to kiss her, our tongues tangling as I pull her hips closer to the edge of the car.

“I’m so fucking glad I met you,” I rasp between kisses, my voice hoarse with need.

My erection strains painfully against my zipper. I don’t release it, because this isn’t about me yet. It’s about this goddess sprawled on the hood of a goddamn Ferrari, the girl whose eyes are burning with hunger. For me. I must’ve been a very good boy in another life for this wild, gorgeous, perfect woman to look at me this way.

Her breath hitches when I drag her sweater up to reveal the thin tank top underneath. I yank on the tank top to expose her bare, perky tits. Her nipples instantly pucker from the cool air, making my mouth water.

I kiss my way down her neck, past her collarbone, until I finally reach those delectable breasts. When I capture a hard nipple between my lips, she whimpers, and I suck on that tight bud until her entire body starts trembling. Then I lick my way to her other nipple and lavish it with the same attention. She’s breathing hard by the time I stop teasing her.

Smiling at the haze of pleasure in her eyes, I hook my fingers under the waistband of her leggings, sliding them down her long legs as I kneel in front of her.

“Beck…” she breathes, her voice quivering with anticipation.

The sight of her laid out like this, her black hair splayed out on the hood of the car, drives me fucking wild. She’s so beautiful.

I press my lips to the inside of her thigh, slowly working my way up. She starts squirming, gripping the edge of the hood as I get closer to the place where she needs me the most, her breaths escaping in short, desperate gasps.

“Oh my God,” she says when I finally reach her pussy. “ Please .”

I chuckle against her core. “Please what?”

“Lick me.”

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m addicted to the taste of her. Sweet and tangy and so damn delicious. I drag the tip of my tongue through her slit toward her opening, then spear it inside her. Her back arches off the hood, and she cries out, her hands flying to my hair, tugging me closer.

Chuckling at the violent response, I lick my way up again, groaning when my tongue finally touches her clit. Swollen and pulsing. Begging to be licked and sucked.

“I love your pussy so much,” I mumble before flicking my tongue against her.

Her hips rise again, and she pulls my hair hard enough to bring a sting of pain to my scalp. “Don’t stop.”

I couldn’t stop if I tried.

The throaty sounds she makes, the way her body responds to my tongue, my lips—it’s driving me out of my mind. I eat her as if my life depends on it, losing myself in the taste of her, in the way she gasps my name. She’s unraveling beneath my tongue, and it brings a sense of satisfaction I’ve never felt before, knowing I’m the reason this woman is shuddering and moaning with pleasure. When she comes, I nearly do as well, and I have to forcefully squeeze my dick over my jeans, the resulting pain warding off the unwanted release.

“Beckett,” she pleads, even as her body trembles from the aftershocks of orgasm. “I need you. Please .”

I stand, my chest heaving, and pull her up to me, kissing her hard. She grasps for my belt, desperate and shaking, and I groan into her mouth as she undoes it. I fumble in my wallet for a condom, then shove my jeans off my ass, freeing my dick. Charlie falls back on her elbows as I step between her thighs.

“You want this inside you?” I ask, gripping my erection in my fist. I give it a slow stroke.

She moans and spreads her legs wider.

Jesus. This woman is reckless abandon personified.

I push into her, and the sensation is overwhelming, the intensity of it hitting me like a wave. I lean forward to bury my face in her neck, holding her tight as I thrust into her again and again. Her legs wrap around my waist, her hands gripping my shoulders.

“Baby…” I groan, my voice rough with need. “You feel so damn good.”

Her nails dig into my back, and she pulls me closer, her lips grazing my ear. “Harder,” she begs, and I don’t hesitate. I move faster, harder.

Everything fades. This is raw. It’s primal. It’s just the two of us, connected in a way that feels deeper than anything I’d ever known. The only thing that could make this better is if Will were here, his tongue on her nipple, fingers in her hair, as I fuck her toward another orgasm.

When she finally cries out, I cede control to her perfect little pussy, tumbling over the edge with Charlie. I come with a force so intense I see stars. I’m completely consumed by this woman, by the wet heat of her pussy, the way she’s gripping my cock so tight. I collapse on top of her, our bodies tangled together, the night air cool against our flushed skin.

My heart is still pounding as I brush my lips over her temple. “That was…” I can’t find the words.

She laughs. “Yeah. It was.”

For a long moment, we just lie there, finding our breath. I nuzzle her neck, planting kisses on her soft skin. Her fingers trace lazy circles on my back, and I feel her heartbeat gradually slowing against my pecs.

Eventually, I help her off the car and we get dressed. She doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave yet, though. Instead, she drifts out of the garage and walks toward the edge of the track. I follow her, our breath misting in the air. Charlie tilts her head, gazing up at the stars. When she visibly shivers, I pull her closer, keeping her warm as much for my sake as for hers.

“Better?” I murmur, rubbing warmth into her shoulders.

“Much,” she murmurs back. After a while, she sighs, the sound heavy, like it’s been building up inside her.

“Do you want to talk about what happened with your brother earlier? And your sister?”

She shakes her head. Then she nods. In a soft voice, she explains how Harrison guilt-tripped her at the football game and how when she called her sister afterward, it only resulted in another helping of guilt.

“It’s just so hard with Harrison. When I started this whole ancestry search, I thought it would be easier. That if I found a relative, it would be like some missing piece would just snap into place. I thought that we’d be close or that he’d understand me because he’s…well, family. But it’s awkward. We don’t even know each other, and sometimes I feel like I’m making it worse, like I’m doing something wrong.”

“From what you’ve told me, he hasn’t exactly been easy to talk to.”

She nods, a frown pulling at her mouth. “Yeah, he’s a lot. He has all this bitterness about our different upbringings, and it’s like I can never say the right thing around him. I constantly feel like I’m supposed to apologize for having a good life.”

When she stops talking, pressing her lips together, I think she’s done, but then she makes an irritated sound and keeps going.

“And it’s not just Harrison either. I felt like that with my ex too, like if I messed up, I’d lose him. I kept trying to be the perfect girlfriend for Mitch, but eventually I couldn’t do it anymore. It was so exhausting, trying to preserve his fragile ego and make him happy every second of the day.”

“That guy is such a dick,” I grumble.

“Yup. And even when I was perfect, he’d still find something wrong,” she says, bitterness creeping into her voice. “It got to the point where even just being myself felt like a risk. Like if I let my guard down, everything would fall apart.”

A sharp stab of anger pokes at my gut. Not at her but at anyone who’d make her feel that way. “You know that’s all on him, right? None of that is on you. Those were Macho Mitch’s bullshit issues, not yours.”

She looks up at me, her eyes a little shiny. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way.”

“Well, it should,” I say. “Because if he couldn’t handle you—really handle you, the real you—that’s his problem. He missed out.”

“You really think that?”

“I know that. You shouldn’t have to change to keep anyone around. That’s not love. That’s…control.”

She goes quiet, thinking. Above us, the sky stretches out like an endless black sea, dotted with stars too distant to reach but close enough to fill the air between us.

Charlie rests her head against my shoulder and turns the tables on me. “What about you? What was your ex like?”

I keep my answer vague. “She was…I don’t know. We were just kids, you know? Figuring out what we wanted, who we were.” I search for the right words, but everything feels off, like I’m trying to explain a dream. How do you even explain someone who, at one point, felt like your whole life? “It was good until it wasn’t.”

“Did she end it or did you?”

“She’s the one who left.”

Charlie nods. “Did she cheat?”

I nod back.

“Do you two ever talk?”

“No.” I shake my head, swallowing back the instinct to shut this down, but my next words slip out before I can stop them. “But I, uh, used to write to her. Letters. Maybe for about a year afterward.” I chuckle under my breath, feeling like an idiot for admitting this. “I never sent them, though.”

“So why write them?”

I shrug, giving a small, self-deprecating smile. “I guess it was my way of putting things to rest, even if she never read them. I told her things I couldn’t say before, things I never figured out until later.”

Charlie hesitates again. “Do you think she’s happier without you?”

The question hits me square in the chest.

I don’t answer right away. I take a deep breath, and for a second, the cold feels sharper.

“Yes,” I finally say. “Yeah, I think she is.”

“And are you happier without her?”

A lump fills my throat. “That’s a tough one to answer. I’m not the same person I was back then. My idea of happiness is different now.”

She looks at me, really looks at me, her eyes containing a warmth that makes the frigid night bearable. “I’m glad you’re here right now,” she says quietly. “With me.”

I hold her gaze, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Me too.”

We fall silent, the weight of the past hanging between us like smoke that refuses to clear. Yet I feel lighter somehow, after letting her see a piece of me I don’t usually show. The realization causes emotion to constrict my chest and throat, making it hard to breathe again.

Yeah.

I’m definitely catching feelings for her.

This isn’t good.

At all.