Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“I don’t know. All they said was let’s have a drink.”
“Okay.” He thinks it over, then continues as if he’s reading from the official threesome manual. “I suggest doing it in public. Tell someone where you are—it can be me if you want. Text me their names, photos. Don’t drink anything they offer you, just in case. Suss them out, and then decide if you want to, you know, bang two dudes.”
I can’t fight my amusement. “Why are you being so casual about this?”
“Because I don’t think it’s a big deal.”
“I expected you to be more judgmental. Most people would be.”
“Screw most people. Whose opinions do you value? Truly value?” He winks. “Mine, obviously, since you drove all the way here for this chat. But who else do you care about?”
“My best friend at Delta Pi. Faith.”
“Would she ever judge you?”
“Never.”
“Then who cares? The people who matter won’t judge you, so stop judging yourself.”
My family will judge me, and they matter.
I swallow the words, along with the lump of embarrassment that lodges in my throat. The idea of my parents finding out about my weird fantasies—
But why would they ever find out? another part of me argues.
True. I’ve never spoken to my parents and siblings about my sex life. So unless one of the tiny minority of people who’ll know about this decides to tell my family, it’s unlikely they’ll ever find out.
“You know what? I’m doing it,” I declare.
I’m so firm in my conviction, I feel a surge of adrenaline from it. I chug the rest of my Power Monster, then crush the can and throw it into the trash, causing Dante to raise his eyebrows.
“You drank that way too fast,” he warns.
“Yeah. That’s why we’re going go-karting now.”
He grins. “Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
WILL
All you have to do is ask
CHARLIE:
One drink. Tonight.
She follows up that message with a time and a place, bringing a smile to my lips. It’s Thursday, and I’m sprawled on a bench in the lobby of the environmental sciences building, waiting for Beckett so we can ride home together. Since his class lets out only forty minutes after mine, it’s no sweat to wait for him. Evidently, he’s not paying attention to said class, because his name pops up on my phone.
BECK:
Charlie’s in.
ME:
I just saw.
BECK:
I guess we’re going to Boston tonight…?
He leaves the question hanging. It seems a little ridiculous to drive more than an hour into the city proper and then another thirty minutes to the suburbs. She picked the most out-of-the-way bar humanly possible. But if Charlie is willing to make the trek just to scope us out, then I suppose we can too.
When we get home an hour later, I kick off my shoes and head for the kitchen. We don’t have to leave for a few hours, so I have plenty of time to cook dinner.
“What are you making?” Beckett calls from the hallway.
“I’m thinking stir-fry. Maybe some quinoa salad?”
“I’m totally ordering a cheeseburger at the bar.”
“Go for it. You can explain to Jensen why you’re sluggish on the ice tomorrow.”
I swear, if Beck oversaw our meals, he’d set our team nutritionist’s meal plans on fire and eat burgers for breakfast, french fries for lunch, and pizza and wings every night.
Anticipation builds in my gut with each passing minute. I shower after dinner, shave the five-o’clock shadow off my face. I throw on a striped polo and dark jeans, reconvening with Beckett downstairs to find him in similar casual attire. His shirt has the top two buttons undone. His jeans are so faded they’re practically falling apart. He pulls it off, though.
He runs a hand through his messy blond hair. “You want me to drive?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
We spend the drive to the Boston bar listening to the Bruins game on the radio. It isn’t until we’re nearing the suburbs that I turn to the passenger seat with a warning.
“Don’t push her too hard.”
Beckett glances up from his phone screen. “Who? Charlie?”
“Yeah, she’s skittish. I think this embarrasses her.”
“I know it does.” He shrugs. “But I’m gonna act the way I always act. She can take it or leave it.”
I suppose that’s fair enough. If she does end up in our bed, she’ll have to get used to the dynamic anyway. Beckett is an incessant flirt. You can’t restrain that much charisma. Most women don’t want him to. But Charlotte Kingston isn’t most women. I get the sense she feels shame over desiring two guys.
It’s a sentiment I understand well. This entire summer, I felt deep shame about…desiring the extra flavors of sex, as Diana would say. It took a while, but eventually I reached the conclusion that it’s nobody’s business but mine what I do behind closed doors. If all parties consent and are enjoying themselves, then who are we hurting? Sure, some people might judge. Think us sleazy. But there’s a reason “threesome” is a popular category on porn sites. It’s a common fantasy for people.