The Charlie Method by Elle Kennedy
- Alisha Eadle
- Jun 21
- 24 min read
The Charlie Method
by Elle Kennedy
Published by Bloom Publishing
Book 3 in the Campus Diaries Series
College senior Charlotte Kingston is living two lives―and she's nailing both of them.
By day, she's the perfect sorority girl, a STEM student in biomedical engineering, and the adopted daughter of an overachiever family. At night, she's Charlie: a risk-taking daredevil looking for fun who finds herself chatting on a dating app with two anonymous hotties.
Will Larsen may seem like the breezy boy next door, but his congressman father is a constant thorn in his side. After a scandal hits another Division 1 hockey program, Will's dad is determined to distance his son from it, hiring a journalist to prove how squeaky-clean Will and his team are. Which means the last thing Will wants is for anyone to find out he and his best friend Beckett Dunne―a laidback Aussie shielding secret heartache―sometimes share girls in the bedroom.
When Charlie finally meets them in person and realizes she's been chatting with two gorgeous Briar U hockey players, things get steamy―fast. But all their messy secrets are piling up, and real life soon threatens to shatter the fantasy. With Charlie, Will, and Beckett all coming to terms with what they want and what others want for them, difficult decisions will need to be made.
Especially when lust starts to look a lot like love.
Genre
Triggers
Feeling inferior to siblings due to being adopted, pressure to be perfect, guilt of being having a better childhood than biological sibling
I'm so sad that this is the last book in the Campus Diaries series.
I'm pretty sure it is.
While I don't think we are leaving the world quite yet - I think we will get other stories in this world, not based around hockey - I'm still sad.
I mean, we better. I know we got a rundown on Isaac and Blake's relationship, but I want the WHOLE story.
I love this series, just as much as I loved the others.
Not just because of the romance.
Although, I did love it. I will get around to that.
But because each character had some deeper issues that needed to be worked through before these three could be happy together.
Charlie's issues with identity, adoption, her biological brother felt like realistic issues an adopted person would have growing up. Elle Kennedy did have a sensitivity reader that helped her navigate that as well, which makes it all the better to read. While I have never been in this character's shoes, I was able to identify and understand why she felt the way she did.
Hell, I was even able to understand why her biological brother felt the way he did, even if I didn't agree or like how he projected those feelings on an innocent and vulnerable Charlie.
We all knew going into this book that Will's issue was going to be committing to a polyamorous relationship and being open with it - especially with his family. He already had issues with the casual hookups Beckett and him had in the past. It makes sense that he could have trouble doing to when it meant something.
Beckett's was the most interesting to me, because it came out of no where. All the hints about his ex did not prepare me for the backstory ... and yeah. I get why he would have issues with commitment. With the fear.
All these issues were blocks in their relationship, but once they each worked through them, the prize was awesome.
The buildup was too.
I loved that the romance wasn't instant. There was a getting to know each other period. Charlie needed the time to figure out if she wanted to bring a fantasy into reality, and honestly, I think Elle did a great job setting up these three characters the way they did. Despite the fact that it's not considered "normal", it felt natural.
That these three people would be together.
And while I love a M/M romantic element, I think I appreciated the fact that that wasn't the case here.
Both Beckett and Will love Charlie. They love the intimacy they have with her individually, and when sharing her.
They love how much Charlie enjoys them both.
Will and Beckett love one another - platonically.
I love that Charlie questioned them on if they would ever explore something with one another though.
I mean - she was just asking what we were all wondering too.
I loved The Charlie Method - despite the fact that it wasn't really what I was expecting. I don't know if I was expecting it to be more spicy than plot driven, or what. All I can say, it that I really enjoyed it.
And Hollis.
Dad Chat.
What a fun way of bringing the Off-Campus guys back in the fold in a funny way.
Trager: "Fuckin' hell, Ingram! You fucking blew -"
Coach Maran: "Hey!"
The sharp rebuke comes from Assistant Coach Maran, who frowns at us from the doorway.
Coach Maran: "Be positive, assholes."
Trager quickly backpedals.
Trager: "You blew ... a bubble of hope when you took that shot on the net and missed instead of passing it to the Kansas Kid who -"
Armstrong: "Who was joyously calling out that he was wide open,"
finishes Patrick Armstrong, the wronged party.
Coach: "Trust me, they annoy me too. My daughter Taylor is throwing my granddaughter a unicorn party for her tenth birthday. Morgan insisted on it."
He scowls.
Coach: "Everyone has to wear horns."
I swallow a laugh.
Will: "Don't worry. I think you could rock a unicorn horn,"
I say helpfully.
He glares at me.
Coach: "And then to add to the annoyance dogpile, my grandson decided he's coming to Briar next year."
That makes me raise a brow.
Will: "You mean Connelly?"
AJ Connelly is one of the most talked-about players in high school. The kid's getting a full ride and four years of ego stroking at any college he chooses. Briar would be lucky to have him.
Will: "I heard the NHL was trying to butter him up. He's not going right to the pros?"
Coach: "No. My son-in-law wants him to earn a degree and let the NCAA develop him before throwing him to the wolves."
I love how casually Jensen just drops this. The son-in-law in question is Jake Connelly. Literally a living legend. He led Edmonton to more than one Stanley Cup win.
Will: "I'm confused. You don't want AJ to come here?"
Coach: "Oh, I'd love to have him. This kid is faster than his dad ever was."
Holy shit. That is saying a lot. Jake Connelly's nickname was "Lightening on Skates" back in the day.
Will: "I still don't see the annoying part."
Coach: "My goddamn son-in-law!"
Jensen grumbles.
Coach: "And don't get me started on my daughter. Those two are going to be back-sear coaching the entire time."
Beckett: Do you like the idea of being with two guys?
Charlie: Honestly, the mechanics of it freak me out.
Beckett: Ha! How so?
Charlie: Like ... There's just so many moving parts. I'm very good at multitasking, though, so I think I could probably be good at it. I should put that on my resume. Skills: good at threesomes.
Beckett: Proficient at taking one dick from behind and another in the mouth.
Charlie: Oh my God, I can't believe you just said that.
Beckett: What? It's a classic threesome pose. A staple.
Charlie: Oh. there are threesome staples, eh?
Beckett: Oh yeah. That one is called spit-roasting.
Charlie: Oh my God.
Beckett: I feel like you're blushing right now.
Charlie: No.
Beckett: Are you lying?
Charlie: Yes.
Beckett: Awww he wanted to stick it in your ass and sweet Charlie was horrified at the thought?
Charlie: No, he wanted me to stick it in his ass. Which, fine, to each their own. I support everyone's kinks. I mean, I'm on here talking to a guy who has threesomes with his friend. But that didn't appeal to me at all. I don't want to be the one penetrating.
Beckett: Then you're in luck! I am happy to penetrate you.
Charlie: This is the craziest conversation I've ever had.
I give Will a stern look.
Charlie: "This will be your first test."
Will: "What am I being tested on?"
Charlie: "How well you follow instructions. And whether you love my jokes."
Will: "Loving your jokes is a requirement?"
Charlie: "To being a good lab partner, yes."
We organize our supplies and go over the experiment. The first order of business is to prep the polymer solution needed to create the scaffold.
Charlie: "Want to take the lead?"
He narrows his eyes.
Will: "Is this another test?"
Charlie: "Obviously. Don't screw this up."
Will: "But no pressure, right?"
Grinning, he pours the solution into the scaffold molds, which are going to be placed in a controlled environment where they can solidify and form the scaffold.
Charlie: "Hey, Will,"
I say as I watch him pour. He has steady hands. I like that.
Charlie: "What did the biologists name their son?"
Will: "I don't know, what?"
Charlie: "Gene!"
I'm unable to contain my laughter.
He groans, but when he lifts his gaze, I don't miss the smile that's crept onto his face.
Will: "That was terrible."
Charlie: "You entered into a formal agreement to love my jokes,"
I remind him.
Will: "I propose we amend the phrasing of love to tolerate."
Charlie: "Motion denied."
Beckett: "I'm just saying, how dare you be raised by that man? He should be my dad."
Blake: "You can have him,"
she says graciously.
Blake: "He's super overprotective."
Beckett: "I think I'd be cool with John Logan protecting me. I could curl up in his arms and bask in all that hockey greatness."
Charlotte: "Who's this?"
I ask Blake, playing dumb.
Now his smile fully takes hold.
Isacc: "I'm Isacc."
Blake: "He plays football or something,"
Blake tells me.
I clamp my teeth down on my lip. Plays football or something. This is literally the star of the team. Last season, he was voted MVP over the team's quarterback.
Isacc narrows his eyes on her.
Isacc: "You wanna dance?"
Blake: "I don't like to dance."
Isacc: "Cool. Then we can just stand there."
Blake: "I also don't like to stand."
Charlie: Who am I speaking to?
Lars: Oh sorry, it's Lars.
Charlie: My swedish heartthrob! How's Bjorn?
Lars: Um ... who?
Charlie: Oh, I refer to B as Bjorn. I imagine you guys as two ripped Swedish boys. I envision florious Viking men.
Lars: I think most of the Vikings were from Norway, not Sweden.
Charlie: Please just let me have this.
Blake: Do you ever give up?"
Blake demands, stomping down the porch steps toward him.
Isaac Grant shrugs, emphasizing his impossibly broad shoulders.
Isaac: "No. I play football. It's a game of inches."
She makes an aggravated noise, planting both hands on her hips.
Blake: "What does that have to do with me?"
Isaac: "You're my inch."
Blake: "I am not your fucking inch, dude. Go away."
Faith and I snicker from the porch, only yo shut up when Blake turns to glare at us.
Isaac: "I'm just saying, I know you like me."
Isaac flashes a cocky smile, his perfect teeth gleaming in the moonlight.
Isaac: "So let's quit playing games. Here we are, inches from the end zone."
Blake: "Go home,"
she grits out.
Isaac: "One date. Just agree to one date, and I'll go."
Blake: "Dude, this is not the way to convince someone to go out with you. I'll stop stalking you if you let me take you to dinner."
Blake snorts in irritation.
Blake: "I'm not interested."
Isaac: "Look, angel-"
Blake: "Angel? Don't nickname me."
Isaac: "Too late,"
he says smugly.
Isaac: "Angel. Listen to me. I'm only asking for one date. Oh,"
he amends.
Isaac: "and you have to promise to actually have a good time."
Blake: "I can't promise to have a good time. What if it's a shit date?"
He capitalizes on her error, beaming at her.
Isaac: "Excellent. So you're agreeing to the date."
Blake: "What? No!"
They've attracted an audience, and I'm not talking just me and Faith. Other Delta Pis have streamed out to investigate the commotion, along with a handful of curious people from the other houses on the Row.
I have to admit, Isaac does post a pretty delectable sight. Six foot six. Muscular. Piercing eyes and square jaw. The guy is a walking wet dream.
For most women anyway.
Isaac: "One date,"
he pleads.
Blake: "I don't even know you,"
Blake grumbles.
Isaac: "That's the purpose of a date. To get to know me. I promise you, I'm tremendous."
Blake: "Who refers to themselves as tremendous?"
Faith snorts against her hand.
Isaac: "Come one. What will it take? Do you want me to shout it out to the whole street? Get on my knees?"
Blake: "Please don't -"
He drops to his knees.
Isaac: "Blake Logan. Angel. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
Wow, he's laying it on thick.
Wait. Should I be jealous here? I mean, he and I were hooking up only a couple of weeks ago, and he's not even looking my way.
Do I want him to look my way?
Are you nuts? Of course you don't.
Common sense returns to me. Right. Just look at the guy. I don't need this kind of drama in my life.
Isaac: "Please put me out of my misery and go out with me,"
Isaac is imploring.
Blake: "Dude, I don't -"
Isaac: "Help me out here!"
Isaac's arms are stretched wide as he addresses the onlookers. Man has the wingspan of a jetliner.
Isaac: "Citizens of Greek Row!"
he shouts like a Roman gladiator.
Isaac: "I enlist your help!"
There's a beat of silence, and then someone from the direction of the Sigma Nu house hollers,
"Jesus fucking Christ, just go out with him and make this stop."
Isaac: "Angel,"
Isaac says again.
Blake: "Oh my God. Fine,"
Blake blurts out.
Blake: "Fine."
She stalks over to him and tugs him by the arm, forcing him to stand.
His face lights up.
Isaac: "When is our date?"
Blake: "I don't know. Just go away."
Isaac: "Friday night. I'll text you."
Blake: "Whatever. Just leave."
Coach: "You're here as a courtesy,"
Coach continues irritably.
Coach: "We are under no obligation to let you into the locker room and invade the privacy of my men."
She's brave enough to voice a protest.
Marjorie: "They all signed releases -"
Coach: "They didn't know what the fuck they were signing. They're idiots.
Shane snorts loudly from his locker, no longer able to contain it.
I snicker under my breath. And for some inexplicable reason, I keep reading, getting sucked into the story. I had no idea Alexander the Great had a huge cock. Is that historical canon? I could look it up, but it's more fun to text my teammate Nick, whose girlfriend is a history major.
Beckett: Yo, ask Darce if Alexander the Great was known for having a big penis.
Nick: No.
Beckett: Please?
Nick: ffs one sec
He texts back about ten minutes later. By then, I've already gone back to chapter one to read the story from the beginning. This is how I learned that the blade they keep talking about is sometimes an actual dagger and other times his hard dong. They still haven't boned, though. This slow burn is excruciating.
Nick: She says no and why do you ask.
Beckett: I'm reading Alexander and Queen Elizabeth fanfic.
Nick: Why are you this way, Dunne?
I grin at the phone and go back to reading. A minute later, another message arrives.
Nick: Darcy wants the link to the fanfic.
Charlie: "What if I meet them and don't want to hook up?"
Dante: "Then I'm afraid to inform you, but you'll have to lie there like a sacrificial virgin and let them run train on you."
Charlie: "What!"
He doubles over laughing.
Dante: "Jesus, Charlie! If you don't want to hook up, then you won't hook up. No one's forcing you to have sex with two guys."
Charlie: "So. Is every time a threesome with you guys? Like ... you're each other's sexual support animals?"
Beckett nearly spits out his beer.
Beckett: "Also, unlike you, Ms. I Must Be Satisfied Thrice Daily - and contrary to popular belief - not all men are looking to bang ten times a day. Sometimes you need a day off."
Charlie: "First of all, once daily is enough."
I give him a haughty look.
Beckett: "See, that's why this arrangement"
-he gestures between him and Will -
Beckett: "was tailor-made for Charlotte Kingston. The days when I'm too tired to service you, I can just tag Larsen in."
Charlie: "Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I live at Delta Pi. Agatha won't allow screaming orgasms without calling you in front of the executive board. Therefore, I'm quiet as a mouse."
Beckett: "Technically, mice aren't silent,"
Beckett points out.
Beckett: "They squeak."
Charlie: "I don't squeak when I orgasm,"
I protest with a giggle.
Charlie: "Seriously, when I'm at home, I've perfected the art of staying quiet during a solo session."
That intrigues him.
Beckett: "Bullshit."
In an abrupt motion, Will climbs off the chaise.
Will: "Need a drink,"
he says before disappearing into the kitchen.
Charlie: "What was that?"
I lift a brow at Beckett, who shrugs. But at Will's return, he hoots at what his friend is holding.
Beckett: "Well, fuck."
I'm even more confused now. I watch as Will opens the whiskey bottle and sloshes the amber liquid into a Boston Bruins shot glass. He slugs it back and grimaces.
Charlie: "What am I missing here?"
Beckett snorts.
Beckett: "You got Larsen so tied up in knots, he needed to take a shot."
I turn to Will.
Charlie: "Is that true?"
Will: "Maybe,"
he says with a hint of a smile.
Will: "but only because I see exactly where this is going."
My heart skips.
Charlie: "And where's that?"
Will: "Beck's about to dare you to get yourself off without making a sound."
All the breath leaves my body. I swing my head to Beckett, who's grinning.
Beckett: "Pretty much, yeah."
I narrow my eyes at him.
Charlie: "Perv."
Beckett: "I mean, yes. But it's not a dare so much as a challenge. I genuinely don't believe you can do it."
Charlie: "Stop trying to to trick me into touching myself."
Beckett leans in closer, his lips grazing my ear.
Beckett: "Stop pretending you don't want to."
Beckett: "You lose."
Charlie: "Did I really?"
I croak out.
Charlie: "Cause from where I'm sitting, two hot guys just brought me to orgasm. I call that a win."
Will: "Give it to Beck, baby,"
he says roughly.
Will: "Don't deprive him of that feeling of you squeezing his big cock when you come. Make him feel good, Charlie."
My thighs clench when he proceeds to guide my hand down to Beckett's groin, curling my fingers around his friend's shaft.
Will: "Get him hard again,"
Will whispers in my ear.
Oh my God.
Faith: "It's cuffing season,"
Faith whines.
Faith: "And I Still haven't found my cuff."
Charlie: "You don't want a boyfriend. Every time you have a boyfriend, all you do is complain about him."
Faith: "Yes, in the summer,"
she says in a haughty voice.
Faith: "In the winter, I'm all about it. I get to wear his hoodies. There's snuggling. Pumpkin spice lattes. Couple's costumes for Halloween."
Ugh. That does sound nice.
Poor Albert looks like he'd rather fight off a rabid ostrich.
Albert: "Helen. I was only being polite. She was the hostess."
Helen: "You never told me I looked radiant."
Albert: "I tell you you're beautiful all the time!"
he protests, glancing around the room for backup.
None of us dared to meet his eyes. Helen wasn't hideous, but I wouldn't exactly call her beautiful. More like ... not displeasing.
Helen's face turns red.
Helen: "You called me 'decent' last Christmas, Albert."
A strangled sound escapes my lips. Oh, Jesus Christ.
You stupid bastard, Al. Decent? Just lie and tell the lady she looks radiant.
Harrison: “Ki-jung.”
His eyes fill with a mixture of discomfort and sadness.
Harrison: “I don’t like to be called that, though.”
Charlie: “Why not?”
Harrison: “Because it’s not who I am anymore. Ki-jung is the kid whose mother didn’t want him.”
He shrugs, reaching for his coffee again.
Harrison: “Harrison is the one who survived everything that followed.”
Charlie: “I don’t know if you’d be teasing me this way,”
I warn him,
Charlie: “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.
Beckett: “Oh my fucking God. There’s a bow.”
Charlie: “Nuh-uh. There’s two bows.”
I stroke the sides of my waistband, teasing the silky pink bows.
Beckett: “You’re gonna kill me,”
he mumbles.
Beckett: “I’m dead, Charlotte.”
Charlie: “Don’t die yet. Let me come on your face first.”
Charlie: “What’s your next class?”
Beckett: “Sustainable Development. Why?”
I quirk up a brow.
Charlie: “How are you ever going to pay attention in Sustainable Development with this big rock in your pants?”
Shane: “Would you just tell us what happened already?”
Shane growls.
Shane: “You keep making these veiled little comments, and it’s starting to annoy the ever-living shit out of me. You clearly want to talk about it, asshole. So fucking talk about it. Asshole.”
Several snorts ring out.
Nick unleashes another scowl, this one aimed at me.
Nick: “You want to know what happened? Ask Dunne. Because it’s all his fault.”
My jaw drops.
Beckett: “Me? What the hell did I do? Go away.”
Nick: “You’re the one who sent me that fan fiction,”
he accuses.
I blink.
Beckett: “What?”
Will: “Wait, what?”
Will joins the conversation now, shifting around in his seat to eye me with suspicion.
Will: “What fan fiction?”
I’m armed and ready to deny, deny, deny, but Lattimore throws me under the bus again.
Nick: “Beck sent Darcy a link for some dumbass story about Queen Elizabeth and Alexander the Great, and now I’m in the doghouse for it.”
Beckett: “First of all—”
I start.
Will: “No,”
Will interrupts, rolling his eyes.
Will: “First of all, were you on my laptop?”
I shrug.
Beckett: “There’s a possibility I might’ve been.”
Will: “And you read the story I’m editing for my old lab partner?”
Another shrug.
Will: “And you sent it to Darcy?”
This time, I defend myself.
Beckett: “Hey, she requested the link. I didn’t offer it.”
I glare at Nick.
Beckett: “And that was the end of my involvement in it, mate. So don’t blame me for being in the doghouse.”
Will: “What does Lourdes’s fanfic have to do with your girlfriend being pissed at you?”
Will asks our teammate. Nick sets his jaw.
Nick: “It doesn’t matter. It just does, okay?”
Shane: “What did you do?”
Shane pushes, unable to contain his amusement. He’s openly grinning.
Nick: “Nothing.”
Shane: “C’mon, what’d you do?”
Case: “She’s trying to get you to read it, and you don’t want to?”
Case guesses from his seat.
Nick: “I said it doesn’t matter,”
Nick replies through clenched teeth.
Shane: “Fine, don’t tell us. I have Darcy’s number. I’ll ask her myself.”
Nick: “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Shane: “Fine. Solve the mystery for us then.”
Nick curses under his breath.
Nick: “Whatever. It’s not a big deal. She just, uh, you know…”
He shrugs.
Nick: “Caught me.”
I furrow my brow.
Beckett: “Caught you doing what—”
I give a sharp intake of breath.
Beckett: “Mate. No. Don’t say it.”
His look of sheer misery is all the confirmation I need. I double over.
Beckett: “Jesus,”
I wheeze between waves of uncontrollable laughter.
Beckett: “Which chapter?”
Shane: “What am I missing here?”
It’s hard to speak through the stitch in my side. I’m panting from the exertion.
Beckett: “She caught him wanking it to historical fan fiction.”
There’s a beat of silence before everyone in our vicinity joins me in the land of shuddering, side-splitting laughter.
Hollis: “Is there a problem? Who’s beefing who?”
Shane shakes his head at the man.
Shane: “No beef. Just giving Lattimore some girl advice.”
Nick glares at Shane as if to say why would you ever open your mouth.
Hollis nods in understanding.
Hollis: “Got it. All right, lay it on me. I’m bursting with wisdom.”
I snicker under my breath.
Nick: “No, you know what? It doesn’t even matter.”
Hollis leans his hip against the seat and fixes Nick with a grave look.
Hollis: “I have one question for you, Nicholas.”
Nick: “Please don’t call me that.”
Hollis: “One question. This girl—is she wife material? You wanna marry her one day?”
I blink, not expecting that. I don’t think Nick was either because he falters. Then he nods.
Nick: “Yeah. I think so.”
Hollis: “Think or know?”
Nick: “Know,”
he says sheepishly.
Hollis: “Then there’s only one solution to your problem. You call her up, and you say, You’re right. That’s it. You’re welcome. Just saved your relationship.”
Colson: “How’d you guys meet?”
Colson calls out from his seat. Hollis brightens.
Hollis: “Oh, it’s a great story. My daughters say it’s the most romantic story they’ve ever heard. Settle in, boys.”
Ryder and I exchange a look. We haven’t known this man long, but any love story told by Mike Hollis is bound to feature more than a few what-the-fuck twists.
Hollis: “So, some people might say Rupi was stalking me,”
he starts.
I rest my case.
Charlie: “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? It’s just leggings and a sweatshirt.”
Beckett: “Exactly. It’s just leggings and a sweatshirt,”
I say petulantly.
Beckett: “That’s not your usual outfit. Where’s the thigh-highs? Where’s the pleated skirt? You’re supposed to be fulfilling my schoolgirl fantasy.”
Charlie: “Hey,”
she says as she sits in the middle section of the couch,
Charlie: “why can’t you trust a statistician?”
Will: “Why?”
Will asks suspiciously. She pauses for effect.
Charlie: “Because they’re always plotting something.”
He sighs.
Will: “Why do I like you?”
Will: “Why are you apologizing to me?”
Charlie: “Because I kissed Will.”
She groans.
Charlie: “He just looked so hot while he was explaining that crazy plot.”
Beckett: “Yeah, I know. Sci-fi gives him a real hard-on,”
I tell her, and Will sighs.
Charlie: “So I don’t usually discuss exes with guys I’m seeing, but I just want to say thank you for taking my libido in stride.”
Will looks amused.
Will: “You’re welcome. But it’s really not a chore to make you feel good.”
Charlie: “It was a chore to my ex,”
I say with a shrug.
Beckett: “Who? Macho Mitch?”
Beckett drawls.
Beckett: “Of course he couldn’t handle someone like you. You’re a majestic thoroughbred, and he’s one of those sad, tired horses they make the tourists ride on beach resorts.”
I snort.
Charlie: “I think this might be the second time you’ve compared me to a horse.”
He nuzzles my neck.
Beckett: “Yeah, but, like, a really hot horse.”
Blake turns to me, wide-eyed.
Blake: “He wouldn’t, would he?”
A grin nearly cracks my face in half.
Charlie: “Have you met him?”
Blake: “No. Noooo. Make it stop.”
Charlie: “Sorry, Logan. You did this to yourself.”
The first player, a behemoth linesman with a shiny, shaved head, holds up a sign that reads “I.”
Charlie: “Oh my God. This is the greatest thing ever.”
Blake: “No, it’s not,”
Blake hisses, while Harrison chuckles on my other side.
Harrison: “Is this the boyfriend?”
he asks, his sour mood seeming to fade courtesy of the spectacle below.
Blake: “He’s not my boyfriend,”
she replies through gritted teeth. The next player’s sign says “AM.”
Blake sinks lower into her seat.
“SMITTEN,” reads the third sign, followed by “WITH” and “YOU,” until the players are all holding signs that spell out
I Am Smitten With You, Blake Logan Isaac Grant
then comes bursting through the paper Briar U banner like he’s breaking the finish line tape in the Olympics. He jogs up to the deafening screams of the crowd and stands in front of the poster-holding teammates. Then he points directly at Blake and shouts,
Isaac: “I’m smitten, angel!”
The fans explode into cheers and whistles, while Blake’s cheeks turn a deeper shade of crimson. She buries her face in her hands, mortified.
Blake: “This guy is insane,”
she mutters.
Charlie: “Yeah, but also kind of romantic,”
I admit, despite myself.
Charlie: “Like, in a ridiculous, over-the-top, completely unnecessary way.”
Blake peeks out from between her fingers, clearly torn between being touched and wanting to crawl under a rock.
Blake: “Is he gone?”
Charlie: “Yup.”
She raises her head, then glares at me when she realizes Isaac is still standing there, his eyes locked on her.
With a sigh, she gives him a little wave, and his entire face lights up. The boy is smitten all right.
Beckett: "You shouldn’t have to change to keep anyone around. That’s not love. That’s…control.”
Beckett: “So you’re saying that gadget there can take someone’s blood pressure? How?”
Will: “Dude,”
Will warns from the chaise.
Will: “You have no idea the can of nerd worms you just opened.”
I beam at Beckett.
Charlie: “How, you ask? Let me tell you!”
Beckett: “Larsen,”
he groans.
Beckett: “Save me.”
Will: “Nah.”
Will Larsen has been added to Dad Chat
Luke Ryder has been added to Dad Chat
Shane Lindley has been added to Dad Chat
Beckett Dunne has been added to Dad Chat
John Logan: Yo. You’ve been recruited.
Luke Ryder: Recruited for what?
John Logan: To watch out for my daughter. This Isaac kid is a menace.
Beckett Dunne: I don’t want to be in this chat. Unsubscribe.
Will Larsen: I will stay only because three of you played in the NHL and won multiple Stanley Cups.
John Logan: You are all staying in this chat until you are removed from the chat.
Hunter Davenport: What do you mean, three? You realize I exist, right? I won a fucking cup with Tampa.
Will Larsen: Oh shit. Davenport’s in this chat too??
Shane Lindley: Coach Hollis is gonna shit a brick when he finds out we’re in here and he still can’t score an invite.
John Logan: How did you assholes turn this conversation about yourselves? My daughter’s life is at risk here.
John Tucker: Your daughter’s life isn’t at risk.
Dean Di Laurentis: At risk of getting knocked up by a football player, maybe. Risk of death? Unlikely.
John Logan: She’s not getting knocked up, because they’re not having sex.
Beckett Dunne: LOL
Garrett Graham: LOL
Conor Edwards: LOL
Shane Lindley: BAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Dean Di Laurentis: What’s the weather like in Denial Town?
John Logan: Fuck all of you.
John Logan: Here’s the deal, young Briars. Blake is too trusting for her own good. She doesn’t possess the proper skills yet to see through this dickhead’s bullshit. But I do. Isaac Grant is a MTMD.
Shane Lindley: ??
Garrett Graham: I got this—I speak Logan. A…menace to my daughter.
John Logan: Exactly. Who names their kid Isaac Grant anyway? Fucking assholes, that’s who. He almost got Blake kicked out of her dorm. And since I’m not there to keep an eye on this fuckhead, I’m officially declaring you my proxies. Especially you, Ryder. You’re practically related to her now.
Luke Ryder: Um…I’m not interfering in a freshman girl’s love life.
Shane Lindley: Hard pass.
Beckett Dunne: I’ll do it. She’s cute.
Beckett Dunne has been removed from Dad Chat
John Logan: The rest of you—you’ll watch out for Blake, you hear me?
Dean Di Laurentis: Or face death.
Hunter Davenport: Oh shit! The nominees for this year’s Hockey Hall of Fame were just announced.
Jake Connelly: Link?
Garrett Graham: Let me read and then we’ll discuss.
Shane Lindley: omg we’re about to discuss hockey with hockey legends.
John Logan: No, we’re done here. Watch out for Blake.
Dean Di Laurentis: Or die.
John Logan: Fuck off, Dean. If this were one of your daughters, you’d do the same thing.
Shane Lindley: Can we please talk about the Hall of Fame nominations?
Shane Lindley has been removed from Dad Chat
Luke Ryder has been removed from Dad Chat
Will Larsen has been removed from Dad Chat
Mom: “You are our real daughter. You always have been. We chose you, and we will always choose you.”
My attention is diverted when Coach Jensen stalks in, tailed by his assistant coaches. He stands at the head of the room, arms folded over his bulky chest, shaking his head like he’s dealing with a bunch of toddlers when nobody has even said a word.
Coach Jensen: “Colson,”
he snaps.
Coach Jensen: “If I see you miss any checks tonight like you did last weekend, I’ll check you myself. Kansas Kid, don’t sass the refs again, or I’ll sass your fucking face.”
Patrick: “What does that mean?”
Patrick asks in confusion. But Coach has already moved on.
Coach Jensen: “Dunne, I need you on their winger—that goddamn nuisance, number fifty-five—all goddamn night. Focus on keeping the puck away from his grubby hands, not on your pretty-boy looks.”
Beckett: “I’m offended by that,”
I call from my perch on the bench.
Beckett: “I don’t even own a mirror.”
He ignores me.
Coach Jensen: “Ryder, watch out for Palicki. He’ll be breathing down your neck all night.”
With that, Jensen turns to speak to his assistants.
Shane: “Was that our championship tournament pep talk?”
Shane says with a sigh.
Abrams: “I feel like Coach needs to take classes on how to be a nice human,”
remarks one of our freshmen.
Coach Jensen: “I’m still in the room, Abrams,”
Jensen growls from the door.
Mom: “Guys, here’s the thing: we love you. All of you. For who you are. It doesn’t matter if you have two boyfriends or no boyfriends or you’re getting divorced or dating a girl. We love you, and nothing will ever change that.”
Dad nods, his usual laid-back demeanor settling back into place.
Dad: “Yeah. As long as you’re happy, we’re happy.”
Garrett Graham: I want a third dog and Wellsy won’t let me get one.
John Logan: Ohhhhh look at the fancy man with his two dogs. Grace is allergic so we can’t even have one. Go fuck yourself.
John Tucker: That escalated quickly.
Beckett: “No, Larsen. I didn’t hit you because you hurt her. Charlie can fight her own battles. I hit you because you hurt me.”
Charlie: “Wait. So by saving the dog, he’s now in a completely different timeline, but the characters in the new timeline still know who he is?”
Beckett: “Exactly.”
Charlie: “Does nobody in this franchise understand basic causality? Butterfly effect? You change one thing, and everything changes. That’s Time Travel 101.”
Beckett chuckles, giving me a sideways glance.
Beckett: “Baby, stop talking about causality. I can’t concentrate if my dick is hard.”
Charlie: “Am I just supposed to sit here and pretend that time dilation doesn’t exist? Because if time travel is possible—”
Beckett: “I’m sorry, did you say if?”
Charlie: “—then you’d be dealing with time dilation and relativistic effects. If you’re moving through time, you’re also moving through space, right? So the earth is rotating, it’s orbiting the sun, the sun’s orbiting the galaxy. You’re not going to land in the same spot every time you go back. You could end up in the middle of space.”
Beckett: “You’re right. It’s a travesty that this low-budget movie didn’t address all this.”
Charlie: “And where’s the paradox resolution?”
I say as if he hadn’t spoken.
Charlie: “There should at least be some catastrophic time loop or, I don’t know, an explosion of the universe.”
Beckett: “Sugar puff. I say this with all kindness, but…I can’t believe I live with such a massive nerd.”
Charlie: “Thank you.”
Beckett: “Wasn’t a compliment.”
Charlie: “You said it was with kindness!”
Beckett: “I fucking lied.”
Charlie: “Were you expecting anyone?”
He shakes his head.
Beckett: “Nope. And nobody buzzed in downstairs.”
Charlie: “Maybe it’s a murderer.”
Beckett: “Why was there hope in your voice when you said that?”
Chuckling, Beckett stands up and cracks his knuckles.
Beckett: "I’ll go check it out alone. You know, just in case it is a murderer. That way, at least you’ll have a chance to escape. I’ll heroically sacrifice myself.”
Charlie: “That’s so noble of you.”
Beckett: “I live to serve.”
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