Page 55 of Beautiful Desire (Blossom Beach #3)

Graham, High School Sophomore Year

“ H oly shit, it’s packed in here.”

My eyes scan the dark, crowded space, taking in the booming music, grinding bodies, and the stench of sweat, teen spirit, and spilled beer in the air.

Everyone’s in a great mood tonight after our shutout win against Hawkins High.

Not only has their football team slaughtered ours in the playoffs for the last four years, but it’s also my first time making it this far, so the victory was especially sweet.

“Damn right,” my buddy, Landon quips as he leans in. “And they’re all here celebrating us, my man.”

I snort. “Most of them are probably here because it’s Friday night and a chance to get drunk, but yeah, we’ll go with that.”

“Speaking of getting drunk, you want a beer?” he asks, gesturing toward the kitchen, which looks to be swarming with just as many people as the living room.

“Nah, I’m good.”

Landon shrugs and saunters into the kitchen, and as I’m about to walk around and find some of my other friends, something—or rather, someone—catches my eye across the room.

My pulse races as my gaze takes her in from head to toe.

Wearing a dark blue tie dye shirt knotted around her waist, black jean cutoff shorts, fishnet’s, and a pair of black combat boots, she’s the last person I expected to see at a party like this.

Charley Madison, my sister's best friend and a senior at my high school.

Weaving through the bodies crowding the tight space, I make my way over, and it’s not until I’m almost right in front of her that she spots me.

A wide, toothy grin splits her face, round, flushed cheeks making her bloodshot eyes squinty.

“Graham!” she squeals, holding up a red Solo cup with god only knows what’s inside. “Fancy running into you here.”

“I could say the same thing to you, Sunny,” I reply with a small chuckle. “Are my sisters here too?”

She shakes her head before taking a swig from the cup. “No, I came with him.”

My gaze slices over to a guy I don’t recognize standing beside her, his arm loosely wrapped around her waist as he carries on an obnoxiously loud conversation with Blake, our quarterback, before coming back to her.

Stomach souring, I lean in and ask quiet enough for only Charley to hear me, “Who is he?”

“That’s David,” she supplies with a giggle. I can smell the vodka on her breath, which takes me by surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Charley drink more than a beer or two, yet she’s definitely at least tipsy right now.

Oh, David. Yes, that clears everything up.

“Yo, Astor!” At the sound of my last name, mine and Charley’s attention turns toward the direction it came from. Standing on a chair, somehow already shirtless and double fisting two cans of beer, is Landon. “Get your ass over here!”

“Looks like you’re being summoned,” Charley teases.

“Yeah, better get over there.” I huff out a small chuckle, not wanting to leave her side for some reason. “Let me know if you need a ride home later.” My gaze slices over to David again before adding, “I’m not drinking tonight.”

Flashing me a lopsided grin, she says, “I’m good, but thanks.”

Heading over to Landon and the rest of the team, we shoot the shit and the night progresses, but every so often, my gaze flits back over to Charley and David .

She’s sitting on his lap now and they’re making out.

I hate it. He gives me the creeps, but I can’t put my finger on why.

Maybe it’s the way he’s so openly groping her ass in front of everyone.

Or maybe it’s the way she’s had a drink in her hand since I got here and is getting progressively drunker.

Not only is Charley my sister's best friend, but she’s also lived down the street from us since we were all little kids, which is probably why I’m feeling as protective over her as I am right now.

Finally, leaning in toward Landon, I ask, “Who’s that guy making out with Charley?”

He follows my line of sight, squinting to make out who it is. “Oh, that’s Blake’s brother, David. He came home from college to watch the game tonight.”

College?! My brows pinch as I turn toward my friend. “How old is he?”

Landon shrugs. “Twenty. Maybe twenty-one.”

“What the hell is he doing with Charley?”

“I don’t know, man. Maybe because she’s fucking hot?” My gaze narrows on my friend, and he barks out a laugh, slapping me on the back. “Relax, I’m just stating the facts. What, you jealous that he’s mackin’ on her and you’re not?”

I shake my head, nose wrinkled. “No, I’m not jealous.”

Sure, Charley is an attractive girl—like, really attractive—but that doesn’t mean I’m jealous.

“Mmhmm, sure you’re not.” Landon waggles his brows suggestively.

Scoffing, I glance over at her again, my stomach twisting. I’m not jealous, Charley just deserves better than that douchebag treating her like a piece of meat in front of a room full of drunk idiots.

As the night progresses and people get louder and more obnoxious, I decide to step outside for some fresh air.

I’ve never been a big party guy; I just don’t see the appeal of getting shit faced and acting like a fool in front of all my peers, but after the big win tonight, it was kind of expected that I would come.

Checking my phone, I groan when I see it’s a little after midnight.

I consider going home, but my parents think I’m at Landon’s tonight, and I don’t feel like explaining to them why I’m not.

A group of guys walk past me toward the back of the house as I scroll through my phone, and when I hear one of them say, “…slipped it into her drink,” my hackles immediately rise and I’m on high alert.

Only catching the tail end of it before they disappear around the corner, I’m not able to confirm who, exactly, they’re talking about, but I’ve heard enough to know something isn’t right.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I storm inside, on the hunt for Charley, somehow knowing in my gut that she’s the ‘her’ they were talking about.

She’s not in the living room where she’s been all night, nor in the kitchen or the dining room, and as I check down the hall in each of the rooms down here.

She’s not in any of those either. Reaching the staircase, I take them two at a time, my heartbeat pounding violently in my chest with each room I check and come up empty.

Maybe I’ve got it all wrong.

Maybe Charley went home, and I’m freaking out over nothing.

But I can’t shake this feeling that I’m not wrong.

Reaching the last room, I try the knob, finding it locked.

I wiggle it a few more times, like it’ll magically unlock, before pounding my fist to the door.

At this point, I don’t care who or what’s going on in there, I just know in my gut I have to get in there.

When nobody answers, I do it again, my pulse racing. “Charley? Charley, are you in there?”

“Room’s occupied,” a deep voice calls out, and despite their voice being muffled, I know exactly who it is.

“Open the fucking door!” I roar, hammering my fist against the wood again. “You better have not laid a fucking hand on her, you sick fuck!”

The door swings open before I have a chance to knock again.

“Mind your own fucking—” he starts to say, but is cut off when my shoulder collides with his bare chest, shoving my way into the room.

Once inside, my gaze lands on the bed—and where Charley’s lying on top of it, unconscious, shirt ripped open, the button on her shorts undone and the zipper down, and there’s a tear in her fishnet’s right below her knee, I’m guessing from when he took off her boots.

“You mother fucker,” I seethe, spinning around and grabbing him by the throat.

Slamming his back against the wall, I tighten my grip, rearing my other arm back, and sending my fist directly on his nose.

There’s a pounding in my ears as I land another one, and another, but before I can keep going, someone barges into the room.

Blake.

Wild eyes look from his brother, who I’m still pinning to the wall as blood drains from his nose, to me. “What the fuck is going on in here, Astor?”

“What’s going on in here, is your fucking piece of shit, predator brother slipped something in her drink and was in the middle of undressing her when I came up here,” I spit out as I drop my hand from around David’s throat and walk over to Charley, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.

Reaching behind me, I tug my shirt over my head, draping it over her chest to cover her.

“What?” Blake looks at his brother again, who has now collapsed onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. “You don’t know that. You can’t just go around accusing people of something like that.”

“You’re not that fucking stupid, Blake. Look at her!” I bark, my left eye twitching and my heart beating so fast, it feels like it’s about to burst in my chest. “Charley is fucking unconscious, bro, and your brother was in here undressing her!”

Blake’s jaw pops as he holds my gaze. “I hear you,” he murmurs. “But we don’t know for sure what happened. For all we know, she could’ve just had too much to drink.”

I’m off the bed and across the room in a flash, grabbing Blake by the shirt. Teeth bared, I spit out, “Even if that were the case, she is clearly not in a position to consent to a goddamn thing. You think that’s okay? Huh?”

“He was drinking too, so how about you back the fuck off.”

“He’s fucking lucky nothing happened or I would’ve killed him with my bare fucking hands.” Shoving him away, I add, “You make me sick, both of you. Get him the fuck out of here before I change my mind and strangle him for the hell of it.”

“This is his bedroom, dude,” he scoffs. “Where the hell would you like me to take him?”

“A six-foot hole in the ground would be preferred,” I grind out as I sit beside Charley and work my t-shirt over her head.

Her eyes open briefly, gaze unfocused and looking nowhere in particular.

She lets out a small groan as I thread her arm through the sleeve before moving onto the next.

I hear the shuffling of Blake moving his brother out of the room, but he doesn’t say a word.

After a quick glance around the room to make sure I’m not forgetting anything of hers, I scoop Charley into my arms and leave, using the backdoor to avoid any confrontation or attention from the other party goers.

I’m able to get her in my car without any trouble.

I lay her down across the backseat, knowing it’s probably not the safest, but my house is only a few minutes away.

Parking down the street, I carry her to the loft above the garage, doubting she wants anyone in my family to see her like this.

Lying Charley on her side on the bed, I sit beside her and untie the laces on her boots.

As I’m pulling the last one off, she stirs and groans, and when I glance up at her face, her eyes are open.

She blinks a few times, her brows cinched together, in what has to be confusion, before her icy blue eyes find mine.

Panic rises in my chest as I realize how bad this looks—us in my parents loft, Charley wearing my shirt as I take off her boots—but it fades as soon as she opens her mouth. “Graham?”

“Hey, Sunny,” I murmur, my chest tight at the roughness in her voice. “I was just getting you ready for bed. Do you want some water?”

Her brows furrow, and she nods. “Where are we?”

Crossing through the small space, I grab a glass out of the cabinet, filling it about half full.

“The room above my garage,” I offer simply.

I don’t want to tell her too much right now, when I’m sure whatever he gave her is still in her system.

It feels like a better idea to wait and tell her when she’s coherent.

After I set the water on the table beside the bed, I kick off my shoes before pulling the blanket over Charley.

“I’m gonna take the couch, get some rest, okay? ”

“Don’t do that,” she mumbles, tucking her hands under her chin.

“I’m just gonna keep an eye on you. I won’t leave.”

“Lay with me.”

My heart thumps in my chest. “I don’t think that’s… appropriate. The couch is fine, I promise.”

Frowning, she says, “Please, Graham?”

I rub the back of my neck, blowing out a deep sigh. “Fine. But I’m sleeping on top of the covers.”

A faint smile tugs on the corner of her mouth as her eyelids flutter closed.

After I switch off the light, I grab the blanket thrown across the back of the couch for myself, and walk over to the other side of the bed, climbing on next to her, but making sure to keep my distance. It’s a queen size, but given everything that happened tonight, it doesn’t feel big enough.

I tell myself I won’t sleep, I’ll just lie here and keep an eye on her, but at some point, I must doze off because the next thing I know, I’m lying on my side, peeling my scratchy eyes open as Charley’s warm body scoots into mine.

She wraps her arm around my middle, letting out a contented sigh as she buries her face in my neck.

I’m frozen in place, I don’t think I even let out a breath.

“Hold me, please,” Charley murmurs against, her voice groggy, the words vibrating through my body from where her face is against my flesh.

I’m hesitant because I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable when she wakes up in the morning, but given that we’re still separated by the bedding, I do it because she asked, and I don’t think there’s a single thing she could ask that I wouldn’t do.

A couple minutes pass, and I’m sure she’s asleep again, but then her arm tightens around me and she says barely above a whisper, “I love you.”

My pulse kicks up as I force my muscles to relax.

She’s out of it, I remind myself.

She’s half asleep, and probably still feeling the effects of whatever was given to her.

Charley Madison doesn’t love me .

I would know, because I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember.

Pre-order Blossom Beach Book 4

Coming January 2026