Chapter Twenty-Six
Brogan
The morning started quiet—too quiet. Brogan blinked into the sunlight, one arm still draped around Archie, their legs tangled under the sheets. For a second, everything felt bearable. Then the phone buzzed on the nightstand, loud and shrill in the stillness.
He groaned, half tempted to ignore it, but something about the timing felt…off. He reached for it, squinting at the screen.
Principal Jackson.
Of course.
Brogan slid out of bed carefully so he wouldn’t wake Archie. Pressing the phone to his ear he said, “Mr. Jackson?”
“Mr. Finnegan,” Mr. Jackson’s voice came through crisp and clipped, like he’d been rehearsing. “I’m calling to inform you that, effective immediately, you’ve been placed on suspension.”
Brogan rubbed his face. “What are you talking about?”
“Because of your arrest last night—”
“I wasn’t arrested,” Brogan cut in. “They brought me in, realized there was no case, and let me walk out the door. No charges, no nothing.”
“Regardless,” Mr. Jackson said, way too calmly, “until the matter is fully cleared, you’re not to return to campus. You’ll get an official notice by email later today.”
Brogan’s pulse jumped. “This is ridiculous. You know this wasn’t anything. Some misunderstanding with an old friend and now suddenly I’m banned from teaching?”
“It’s not about the misunderstanding, which is suspect, another man. It’s about public image. Parents have concerns.”
“Yeah, because you couldn’t wait to stir the pot.”
There was a pause. Brogan could picture Mr. Jackson sitting back in his leather chair, smug as hell.
“You’ve always pushed boundaries, Brogan,” Mr. Jackson said. “I’ve warned you. More than once.”
Brogan’s voice dropped lower, firmer. “You’ve had it out for me since day one.”
“I expect professionalism, and frankly, your personal choices make that difficult.”
“Oh, give me a break. This isn’t about professionalism. You’ve been waiting for something like this to pull the trigger. You’ve twisted what happened last night to give you the perfect excuse.”
Silence on the other end. Then, “I suggest you take this time to consider your future.”
And with that, the line went dead.
Brogan lowered the phone, his hand clenched so tight it hurt. Anger surged up like heat under his skin. At Jade—for lighting the match. At Mr. Jackson—for pouring gasoline on it. No one had even asked him what happened. No one cared about the truth. Not really.
He exhaled hard, set the phone down a little too fast, then sat on the edge of the bed, his mind spinning. Archie stirred behind him, but Brogan didn’t turn. He wasn’t ready to speak yet.
He was too busy trying not to explode. He left the bedroom and made himself coffee then sat outside with his dog Pasha. He let him out in the mornings, but since he wasn’t working, he’d let him stay out longer. He didn’t even know if Jade had left or not. His phone rang again.
“Brogan speaking.”
“Hey, is everything okay with you and Archie?” Andrew asked.
“Yes. But my job is in jeopardy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mr. Jackson suspended me until my case is closed.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll help. I hate Mr. Jackson. He was there when I went to school. I know the owner of the motel. I’ll get him to drop the charges.”
“I’ll pay for any broken expenses.”
“I’ll visit him.”
“What about Rafael?”
“I’ll talk to him too. That won’t be easy. You know how he is. But if I get the motel owner to drop the charges, Rafael has nothing. I went to school with the motel owner’s son. So, he knows me. Let me go over there in person, then I’ll call you back to let you know.”
“I can’t thank you enough. You’ve been a good friend. Always there for me.”
“I’m happy you have Archie. The two of you need each other. Talk to you later.”
The sliding glass door opened with Archie standing there in his jeans, holding a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” Archie said, kissing Brogan.
“Morning, love.”
“What’s wrong?” Archie squinted as he looked closer at Brogan.
“Lots of things are fucked up.”
“Jade?”
“I don’t know if he left or not but something else.”
“I changed Molly’s litter, so it’s not that.” Archie tried to lighten the mood.
“I wish that’s all it was. Mr. Jackson, the principal, put me on suspension for last night.”
“How did he find out so fast?” Archie gently stroked Pasha’s soft fur.
“Small town, lots of gossips.” Brogan read about small towns like this one, but it never involved him much. Though he made good friends with Andrew and some of the other locals, like Nate the bartender.
“I’m not used to living where everyone knows what you’re doing.”
“That’s the one part I hate. You can be put under a microscope.”
“What are you going to do all day?”
“Waiting for you to come home.”
“I wish I could stay home, but one of us needs to work.”
“How about I take you out to dinner after work?” Brogan asked.
“Sounds good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Brogan stood when Archie did. They embraced, their bodies trembling, and kissed, a silent promise passing between them.
Once he left, Brogan jumped into the pool and did a few laps.
Pasha ran laps around the pool then drained her water bowl.
Poor Molly pressed her nose against the cool glass of the sliding door, watching intently.
He couldn’t let her out for fear she’d jump the fence and never return, but that didn’t stop him from feeling sorry for her while Pasha had the run of the fenced yard.
The sun was high, and Brogan had been in the pool long enough for his fingers to wrinkle. After a few laps, he relaxed by drifting, staring at the sky, letting the water muffle everything that had been screaming in his head since the phone call that morning.
The gate creaked open.
Brogan glanced up, the water slipping down his face. Andrew stepped around the corner, casual like he’d done it a hundred times, like this wasn’t the first semi-crisis he’d shown up for with good shoes and better timing.
“Didn’t want to ring the bell,” Andrew said, heading toward the chairs. “Didn’t know if you were napping or just ignoring people again.”
Brogan pulled himself out of the pool, water rolling off his shoulders in sheets. “What gave it away?”
He grabbed the towel he’d tossed over the back of a lounge chair earlier and ran it across his hair, then down his arms and chest. Andrew dropped into a seat and folded his hands.
“You’re cleared,” Andrew said.
Brogan paused, blinking water out of his eyes. “What?”
“The charges—if you could even call them that—are dropped. Done. Rafael and I talked to the motel owner. Guy confirmed everything and said the damage would be taken care of with his insurance. Took the paperwork straight to Jackson.”
Brogan let out a breath, sitting down on the edge of the pool with the towel draped around his shoulders. He didn’t say anything right away.
“No arrest on record, no charges. Jackson knows,” Andrew added. “I made sure.”
Brogan snorted. “Bet he loved that.”
“Oh, absolutely hated it,” Andrew said with a grin. “But he’s got nothing to stand on now.”
A moment passed. The tension in Brogan’s shoulders eased, like someone was slowly loosening a vice. “Thanks.”
Andrew shrugged. “You can thank me and Rafael with dinner. I’m thinking Thai or that sketchy taco place you like.”
Brogan huffed a laugh. “Yes, the taco place it is.”
Andrew tossed him a look. “Then how about skating after?
Brogan nodded. “Archie and I will meet you guys at seven.”
Brogan smirked, leaning back on his hands as the heat dried the last of the water from his skin.
For the first time all day, it didn’t feel like everything was about to cave in.
There was still fallout to deal with—there always was, but at least now, he wasn’t walking into it alone.
And Archie would be excited to double date with his cousin.