The four of them exchanged a chorus of hesitant “um no” sounds.
“We’ll see,” Gabriella said. “I’ll keep you posted.”
She walked off to wait at a table, and Archie leaned into Brogan, resting his head briefly on his shoulder. Whatever happened next, they’d face it together. And that, Archie thought, was more than enough.
The bell above the door rang again; Archie’s heart dropped. Uncle David. Alone. That can’t be good. Archie got up and said, “We need to leave.”
Brogan stood up beside him, but his face was etched with a look of uncertainty. There was Uncle David walking their way. Archie walked past him like he was running away from a fire, with Brogan right behind him.
Once they were outside, Brogan said, “You okay?”
“I will be when we get home.”
Brogan opened the door for Archie and then ran to the other side. They were on their way home in silence. Archie didn’t feel like talking. It was all his fault Uncle David didn’t want him at the family Christmas dinner. He wasn’t about to be insulted again in front of everyone.
“What about if we go to that club and dance?” Brogan asked.
“Go dancing?”
“Yes, we’re both off for two weeks. We can stay out late.”
“I guess we can. Let’s go for it,” Archie said and slowly the tension he’d carried home with him eased a little.
Chapter Five
Brogan
The music thumped lowand steady as Brogan stepped into the club, the kind of place that smelled like citrus and sweat and possibility. Foggy Basin felt a hundred miles away, and that was exactly the point. He glanced over at Archie, wide-eyed, a little tense, and reached for his hand.
“C’mon,” Brogan said, tugging him toward a booth near the back. “We’re not here to mope.”
They slid into the cracked leather seats, neon lights flickering overhead like a disco halo. Brogan flagged down the server and ordered two Piña Coladas with extra whipped cream, cherries, and those ridiculous little umbrellas.
Archie raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” Brogan grinned. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re doing it with flair.”
The drinks arrived like tropical desserts in cocktail form. Archie took a sip and let out a soft laugh. Brogan watched him, heart tugging a little. Archie had been quiet since the Blue Star Diner, since the unexpected run-in with Uncle David. That man had looked right through Archie like he was invisible. Like he hadn’t helped decorate the Blue Star, and he was a stranger, not a family member.
Brogan leaned in. “You’ve gotta let it go, Arch. Uncle David’s rejection—it sucks, yeah. But it’s not the whole story. Christmas can still be good. Hell, it might be better without the drama.”
Archie nodded slowly, eyes on the swirl of whipped cream in his glass. “I didn’t think he’d be there. I wasn’t ready.”
“I know,” Brogan said. “But you’re not alone. You’ve got me. And we’re family now.” That earned Brogan a small smile.
They finished their drinks, and Brogan stood, holding out a hand. “Dance with me?”
Archie hesitated for half a second, then slid his fingers into Brogan’s. The music had shifted, something slow, somethingwith a beat you could sway to. They moved onto the dance floor, surrounded by strangers and colored lights, and found their rhythm.
Brogan pulled Archie close, one hand on his waist, the other resting lightly on his shoulder. Archie’s breath was warm against his neck, and Brogan could feel the tension melting out of him with every step.
“You smell like coconut,” Archie murmured.
Brogan chuckled. “You smell like heartbreak and rum.”
“Charming,” Archie said, but he was smiling now.
They swayed, moving as one, a dance of love with every brush.
