Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brogan
The smell of sizzling meat and roasted peppers hit Brogan before they even made it to the table.
The place was packed, buzzing with chatter and the clang of plates, and the floor felt just slightly sticky under his boots—signs of a solid, no-frills taco joint.
Archie led the way, waving at Andrew, who already had a pitcher of margaritas on the table, and Rafael seated beside him, pressed and polished, looking like he might’ve disinfected the seat before sitting down. Andrew had said he was a clean freak.
Brogan gave the bare-minimum smile as they slid into the booth across from them.
“Glad you made it,” Andrew said cheerfully.
Rafael offered a nod to Archie before his eyes flicked to Brogan. “How’s the Jade situation?” he asked, before they’d even cracked open the menu.
Brogan tensed, shooting a glance at Archie, but Rafael plowed right on.
“I just heard through the grapevine—and by grapevine I mean Merle, that someone saw Jade this afternoon at Pints ’n Pool, which means he didn’t actually leave town after all. So, that plane ticket you said you bought? Bit of a waste, wasn’t it?”
Brogan leaned back, letting the ice in his margarita clink as he picked it up. “Jade’s not my problem. Or yours. Not anymore.”
Rafael raised a brow, like he was just stating facts. “Just saying, if someone’s stirring your pot, maybe it’s worth knowing where they actually are.”
Archie’s jaw clenched. “Jade’s not part of this conversation. He’s not part of my relationship with Brogan. Just like you’re not.”
That landed like a slap wrapped in silk.
Brogan had to fight the smile tugging at his mouth.
Archie rarely pulled out the hard punches, but when he did, they landed clean.
Archie shared his dislike for Rafael too.
Poor Andrew was stuck with him, but he didn’t see it as being stuck.
Andrew knew how Brogan felt about his husband, but Brogan wasn’t so sure Andrew had been aware of how Archie felt about him.
It should have been obvious when he chose to stay with Joe over them.
Rafael went quiet, lips thin, while Andrew busied himself pouring more drinks like it was a peacekeeping mission. Brogan took a breath, grounding himself in Archie’s calm, defiant energy. It helped.
The rest of dinner settled into less dangerous territory. Talk shifted to a documentary Andrew was raving about and how the town’s grocery store somehow ran out of jalapenos again. By the time the check came, things had cooled enough that Rafael even offered a stiff but civil “see you at the rink.”
The roller rink smelled like old polish and birthday cake frosting, and Brogan couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him when Archie nearly wiped out trying to lace up his skates too fast. The music was retro; the lights were low.
Andrew and Archie took off ahead, weaving through groups of teenagers like showoffs. Rafael followed at a calculated, graceful pace, as if he refused to break a sweat.
It didn’t take long for the tension from dinner to melt away into laughter and chaotic races. At one point, Archie grabbed Brogan’s hand and spun him in an uncoordinated circle that nearly took them both down in a pile of limbs.
“Still think I’m not athletic?” Archie shouted, laughing breathlessly as they steadied themselves.
“You’ve convinced me,” Brogan called back. “Absolutely elite level flailing.”
By the time they peeled off their skates, everyone was winded, slightly bruised, and flushed with the kind of warmth that only comes from shared movement and forgotten grudges.
Brogan caught Archie’s eye as they reached the parking lot, and in that look was a quiet echo of what he’d felt back in the restaurant: They were in this together. Jade, Rafael, the town’s whispers—it was all just noise.
The part that mattered was still holding his hand.
The ride home was quiet in the best way.
Windows cracked, wind curling around their words when they spoke, but mostly they didn’t.
Brogan drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting near the gearshift where Archie’s fingers occasionally brushed against it.
Back at the house, the post-skating high still lingered. Archie kicked off his shoes as they walked in, stretching like a cat, while Brogan flicked on the kitchen light and grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator.
“I forgot how sore skating makes you,” Archie groaned, flopping onto the couch. “I’m going to feel that in my ankles tomorrow.”
“Small price for watching Rafael almost faceplant during that turn,” Brogan said, smirking as he handed over a bottle of water. “Guy almost dropped his composure in public. Monumental.”
Archie laughed, then studied Brogan for a second too long. “You okay?” he asked, quieter now.
Brogan sat down beside him, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I mean, Rafael poked around like he always does. The Jade thing pissed me off, sure. But honestly? You shutting it down like that…helped.”
Archie leaned back, resting his head against the couch. “He’s just protective. Sometimes too much.”
“Yeah, well, you weren’t wrong,” Brogan said. “Jade’s not part of this. He doesn’t get to live in our conversations, or in my head. I don’t want to give him that.”
“You’re not,” Archie said, nudging Brogan’s knee with his own. “He only gets the space we let him take.”
Brogan chuckled, some tension easing from his shoulders. “You’re exactly right on that.”
They sat like that a little longer, curled into each other, the noise of dinner and skating and Rafael fading into something quieter. Something solid. The night hadn’t started off perfectly, but now, with the worst behind them and the hum of peace settling over the room, it felt like a win.
“Let’s go to bed,” Archie suggested with a wink.
Brogan took Archie’s hand and led him to their bedroom, not prepared for what he saw on the bed. A perfect Molly sound asleep smack in the middle of the comforter. Not only had she secured her spot in the bed, but adorable cat slept like an angel.
“Now what?” Archie whispered to Brogan.
“She looks so comfortable, but she needs to move.” Brogan gently lifted her, her weight almost nothing in his arms, carrying her to the other room and placing her softly on the freshly laundered bed.