Chapter Three
Archie
Archie leaned against the kitchen counter, phone in hand, typing a quick message to Andrew.
Archie: Moving in tonight. I’ll swing by to pick up my boxes soon .
He hit send, letting out a breath as he glanced around. It was still sinking in that he was officially renting a room from Brogan. That fascinating man.
Brogan was already moving toward the back door, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s a good evening for sitting by the pool. Do you like beer?”
Archie nodded.
Brogan pulled two beers from the refrigerator and Archie followed him outside.
The pool was pristine, reflecting the last streaks of sunset, shimmering like melted glass.
Soft lighting lined the fence, casting a golden glow over the water and the surrounding patio.
Wicker lounge chairs sat neatly beside a shaded patio area, a small table nearby; just enough to feel inviting without being fussy.
The scent of honeysuckle hung in the air.
Archie sat, still adjusting to the whole situation, still processing Brogan himself.
The man had a way about him, something magnetic.
His wavy golden-brown hair caught the fading light, looking almost intentionally sun-kissed, like the guy always belonged somewhere near the ocean.
And then there was his weirdly cheerful voice.
His Irish accent twisted around his words in a way that left Archie struggling to keep up sometimes. Not that he minded.
“Are you doing okay?” Brogan asked, setting a beer down beside him.
Archie cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Just…Can’t believe I’m moving in already.”
Brogan shrugged, easy and relaxed. “Seemed like the right fit, yeah?”
Archie wasn’t about to argue with that. “So, hobbies. What do you actually do when you’re not renting rooms to strangers?”
Brogan grinned. “Hiking, photography, surfing. I don’t get any surfing done in Foggy, of course. Mostly on weekends, exploring the coastline. California’s got some spots you wouldn’t believe. The sunsets, the marine life, make it all worth dragging a camera around for.”
Archie perked up at that. “Surfing, huh? I’m into that too. I’m from San Diego and went to school in San Francisco. And hiking. Motorcycles, obviously.”
Brogan raised an eyebrow. “Seems we’ve got some overlap, then.”
Archie smiled, taking another sip of his beer. This was…nice. Easy. He wasn’t sure what he had expected when he pulled up behind Brogan’s van earlier, but now, sitting by the pool, the conversation flowing effortlessly; he had the strange feeling he had landed exactly where he was supposed to be.
“We do.”
“Is that duffle bag the only possession you have here?”
“No. I mailed my boxes to Andrew’s house. I’m sure Rafael wasn’t pleased about that.”
“If you need help, I can drive my van over to Andrew’s and move your things over here.”
“Thanks.” Archie finished his beer.
“Do you have a special person in your life?” Brogan asked.
“No. To be honest, I didn’t have much time to socialize during my last year.
” Of course, he wouldn’t dare advertise what he was really doing in San Francisco.
He’d told no one, not even his cousin Andrew.
His father had no idea, or he would have told him he was wasting his time up there.
But one important thing happened: he kept his grades up.
He had two fewer classes last semester, leaving him plenty of free time.
Grateful he had taken extra classes early to make his life easier right before graduation.
“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Archie asked.
“Yes. It didn’t work out for us.”
“Right now, you don’t have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Do you plan on moving anyone else in here?” Archie would be perfectly content living with Brogan and didn’t want the intrusion of another roommate.
He wanted Brogan, and only Brogan, at his disposal; no substitutes would do.
He knew it was selfish, a gnawing guilt in his stomach, but constant competition for Brogan’s attention would prove to be too much.
He couldn’t deal with any more stress at this point.
“No, only you Archie. Anyway, three never works out. So just you.”
“Three never worked out for me either.
“Are we still talking about roommates?”
Brogan’s face turned red, then he laughed. “Yes, roommates. Have you tried a threesome?”
“No. I don’t like sharing my lover.”
“Me either. I’m selfish that way. But remember, I got a good rec from your cousin, so I’m not worried.”
“Are you sure that good rec wasn’t because Rafael doesn’t want me moving in over there?” Archie hadn’t heard anything like that from Andrew, but he’d felt it. He had met Rafael once, and he wasn’t his type; his quiet intensity and piercing gaze were unsettling.
“Might have been, but I trust Andrew. He’s a good guy. He was the first person I met when I stopped here. He told me about the teaching position here. So, I’m very grateful to him.”
“So, I’m payback for him helping you.”
“Originally, yes, but I like you a lot. I want to get to know more about you. So, I have many reasons I wanted you as a roommate.”
Archie leaned back in his chair, the old wood creaking beneath his weight as he stretched his legs out in front of him. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass. Brogan sat facing him, effortlessly casual, one arm slung over the back of his chair, the other cradling his beer.
Archie couldn’t stop staring. The man had this calm confidence, this unshakable charm that settled into every movement. And that accent. God, that accent. It made even the simplest words sound like poetry.
“So,” Brogan drawled, tilting his head, “settling in all right, are you?”
Archie cleared his throat, hoping the heat creeping up his neck wasn’t visible. “Yeah, yeah. It’s a nice place. Cozy.”
Brogan grinned, his teeth flashing in the low light. “Cozy, huh? That’s just code for ‘small,’ isn’t it?”
Archie chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I mean it. Feels…welcoming.” He picked at the label of his own drink, then glanced up, catching Brogan’s eyes for a fraction longer than necessary. “You’re welcoming.”
Brogan smirked, leaning in slightly, as if sizing Archie up. “Careful now, that almost sounded like a compliment.”
“Maybe it was.” Archie shrugged, feigning indifference, though his heart was pounding.
Brogan’s brows lifted, amusement flickering across his face. “Flattery won’t get you lower rent, you know.”
Archie laughed. “Good to know. Just making conversation.”
Brogan took a slow sip of his beer, his gaze steady, teasing. “Ah, but is it conversation, or is it you just enjoying the sound of my voice?”
Archie exhaled, shaking his head in surrender. “You got me. That accent? It’s ridiculous. Unfair, honestly.”
Brogan chuckled, setting his drink down. “I’ll take that as high praise, then.”
“Yeah, you should,” Archie admitted, grinning.
Silence settled between them for a moment, not uncomfortable but charged. The kind that made Archie hyperaware of every movement, every glance, every small shift in Brogan’s posture.
Brogan studied him, eyes flicking over his face, his expression unreadable. “You’re an interesting one, Archie.”
Archie huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “That a good thing?”
Brogan’s smile was slow, deliberate. “Aye. I think so.”
Archie swallowed hard, looking away with an embarrassed chuckle. Brogan, it seemed, had a way of making simple words feel loaded, laced with something deeper. Something thrilling.
Tonight, Archie realized it might be the start of something interesting indeed.
“Did you know that I’ve never been to Foggy Basin before?”
“Is this the first time you’ve met your cousin Andrew?”
Archie shook his head. “Andrew and his family used to visit us every summer in San Diego. They haven’t been back for four years since I’ve been in college.”
“How are you related?”
“Our fathers are brothers. We used to joke who had the worst father.”
“His father is a handful, for sure.” Brogan said, taking a sip of beer.
“Mine is worse.”
“So, I heard from Andrew.”
An hour passed in a flurry of words, punctuated by the occasional shared laugh.
“I have to get up early,” Brogan mumbled, the weight of the day already pressing down on him.
With a sigh, they each went to their respective rooms, the silence of the house settling around them.
Archie lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, the dim glow of the back porch light filtering through the blinds.
The room was quiet, maybe too quiet. It was supposed to feel like a fresh start, a new beginning, but instead, the loneliness settled in like an old, unwelcome habit.
Then Molly jumped on his bed and snuggled beside him.
He welcomed her presence. Perfect timing.
He stroked her back until she fell asleep beside him.
He hated the way his mind wandered at night, drifting back to memories he didn’t want but couldn’t quite let go of.
His father had been good at disappearing, at leaving without looking back.
The note had been brief, impersonal. Moving to New York.
Take care. No warning. No explanation. Just gone before Archie had even made it home from college.
He had never fully forgiven the way the house had felt so empty, like something had been ripped out of it. And maybe that was why this whole situation with Brogan left him feeling so hollow. He had let himself hope, just for a second, that things would be different this time.
Talking to Brogan had felt easy. Brogan had a way about him; charismatic and open like he carried the world lightly on his shoulders.
Archie liked that. He had liked their first late-night conversation, and the moments that had made him feel like he wasn’t just someone renting a room, but someone who mattered.
Archie exhaled slowly, turning onto his side, willing himself to let go of the thoughts clawing at the edges of his mind. But he couldn’t shake the ache in his chest, the persistent hope that maybe, just maybe, he might mean something more to Brogan one day.
Maybe that was foolish.
Maybe it was wishful thinking.
But in this silent room, alone with nothing but his own thoughts, he couldn’t help but wish for something more.
Something that, deep down, he knew he might never have. He fell asleep with Molly.
The next day, Brogan’s van engine woke Archie.
The sunlight filtered through the blinds.
Molly was gone, so she must have watched Brogan leave or he had fed her before leaving for work.
Archie got up and headed for the bathroom to shower and change into clean jeans and a top.
After a while, he planned to have breakfast at the Blue Star Diner.
Just as he was going to scope out Brogan’s bedroom, the doorbell rang.
Why would someone visit when Brogan was working ?
. Archie paused in front of the door, his fingers hovering over the handle.
Brogan had never mentioned expecting anyone, and Archie wasn’t exactly prepared for company—especially not the first thing in the morning.
He ran a hand through his damp hair, straightened the hem of his shirt, and pulled the door open.