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He calls my name to get my attention, bringing me out of my ab haze. “Charlene, you ready to go? We can grab a calendar while we’re there so we can set up a schedule.”

I look up at him and scowl. “Beckham, why do you insist on calling me Charlene? It’s like you want me to hate you more.”

“Then maybe you should stop calling me Beckham.”

“Playing tit for tat is so beneath you. And why do we need a new calendar? You have one right here,” I say while grabbing the one off the wall near the desk.

“Can you not touch my things? That calendar is my football and class calendar. They can’t mix. We’ll get a new one,” Beck says with irritation in his voice.

I forgot how particular he was about keeping things organized. But I guess I am, too, with my counting.

Not wanting to stay in here with him any longer than I need to, I stand up from the chair, grab my crossbody bag, and start walking toward him at the door to the room.

“Ready. Let’s go.”

He just stands there for a minute, looking at me. Like he’s trying to find an answer.

“They’ve gotten darker,” he mumbles.

“What? What’s gotten darker? Do I have something on my face?” I ask, running my hand over my face.

With a hint of laughter in his voice, he says, “No, you’re good. More than good. Let’s go.” Then he pushes off the doorframe, turns, and walks away.

Not sure what just happened, I pull out my phone, tap on the Camera app, put it in selfie mode, and inspect my face. I don’t see anything I should be embarrassed about, so I turn it off, slide my phone into my crossbody bag, and follow him out the door of the room, but not before flipping the bedroom light switch three times.

It’s a habit I started when I was a kid. Once my parents separated Casey and me into our own rooms, I had trouble sleeping and would count in threes—the squares in the door, shadows on the ceiling, anything I could group into threes. I’m not sure why it had to be three times, but it helped me get tired and fall asleep. I haven’t been able to break my little ritual since.

As I’m walking toward the front door, I make a mental note to check out the house more when we get back so I know where everything is.

When we moved Casey in last year, it all happened so fast, and I didn’t have much time to look around. Now that I’ll be staying here, I need to get familiar with it a little better.

By the time I’m out of the house and I reach Beck’s car, he’s opening his door and sliding into the driver’s side. Beck also has a truck, but his doesn’t sit as high as Casey’s, so I can get into it much easier, and it’s a bench seat with no rear cab.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been in his truck. The last time I was in it alone with him, things got a little heated. Okay, maybe more than a little heated. It was so fucking hot that the windows fogged up. I can still see the look on his face when he looked down at me as his cock thrust into my mouth. I bite my lip and close my eyes, then quickly shake the thought away. I don’t need to look like I’m imagining him naked. I want to seem completely unaffected by being in this truck with him.

But then he does the thing …

CHAPTERSIX

BECKHAM

“Lean back,”I say to Charlie as I reach across her body and pull the seat belt over her chest and hips.

My knuckles brush over the cotton of her shirt, and she inhales quickly as I lock the buckle in place.

When we were … us … I always buckled her into the car. Honestly, I think it was muscle memory just now that made me do it. I’d started strapping her in when I got my license. A subconscious thing maybe to feel like I could keep her safe.

“Why did you do that?” she asks, sounding a little breathy.

“Habit,” I answer. That’s all I’m giving her right now.

I don’t want to tell her that having her in this car with me is making me crazy. Memories of her, of us laughing, listening to music. All the fucking and other dirty things we did in here. Yeah, it’s all rushing in.

Hell, I damn near grabbed her in my room before we walked out. She came to stand in front of me, and all I could see were her pink lips, begging to be kissed. She has the perfect mouth for kissing. The bottom lip is just slightly bigger than her top lip, which is shaped like a Cupid’s bow. I could see the flush in her cheeks and neck. And her eyes—yeah, she wasn’t unaffected either. The freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks get me every time too.

And, fuck, now my dick is starting to get hard again.

I basically ran out of the house like a chickenshit so she didn’t see my growing boner. Like a freaking middle schooler.