Page 73 of The Boyfriend Zone

"Just needed a moment," I replied, leaning into his warmth. "But I was absolutely hiding from a rematch too."

Sean laughed, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Can't say I blame you. Zach gets way too competitive about beer pong. It's embarrassing, really."

"Says the guy who was calling out strategic ball placement like we were in the NHL finals," I teased.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sean replied with mock innocence. "I'm the picture of casual sportsmanship."

"Sure. That's why you spent five minutes explaining the optimal trajectory for my third shot."

"Which you then proceeded to bounce off the ceiling fan, if I recall correctly."

"A deliberate distraction technique," I insisted. "Very advanced strategy."

Through the window, we could see our friends inside: Nate dramatically dancing on a coffee table to cheers from the crowd, Ava capturing the moment on camera, Zach watching Nate with undisguised affection despite his performative eye-rolling.

"It's nice, isn't it?" I said softly. "All of us together like this."

"Like a weird little family," Sean agreed. "Dysfunctional as hell, but somehow it works."

I turned to face him, struck by how beautiful he looked in the soft glow from the house lights, his eyes reflecting the distant stars. Without thinking, I reached up and pulled him down for a kiss, trying to convey everything I was feeling.

Sean responded immediately, his arms circling my waist as he drew me closer. The kiss deepened, warming me despite the cold night air, making me forget everything but the sensation of his mouth on mine, his body pressed against me.

When we finally broke apart, Sean rested his forehead against mine, his breath forming small clouds between us. "What was that for?" he asked, his voice low. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Just because," I replied. "Because I'm happy. Because this night is perfect. Because you're you."

His smile was soft, intimate, meant only for me. "I like making you happy."

We stayed outside a little longer, talking about nothing important—plans for break, classes for my next semester, the truly atrocious Christmas sweater Tristan was wearing inside. When the cold finally drove us back in, the party had shifted into a mellower phase, with smaller groups gathered around the living room.

I curled up on the oversized couch with Sean, feeling pleasantly drowsy from the combination of one drink, the warm room, and the comfort of Sean's presence. Nate and Zach were in the kitchen, arguing good-naturedly about the proper way to make hot chocolate while raiding the refrigerator for leftover desserts.

"We should probably head out soon," I murmured, even as I nestled closer to Sean's side. "It's getting late."

"Okay," Sean agreed, his fingers lazily carding through my hair. "Five more minutes?"

Through the window, I could see that it had started to snow, delicate flakes drifting past the streetlights. The music had shifted to something softer, the conversations around us low and intimate. I tilted my head to look up at Sean, feeling a surge of emotion so strong it caught me by surprise.

"I'm really happy," I whispered, the simple words inadequate for the depth of what I was feeling.

Sean's eyes softened as he leaned down to kiss me, a gentle press of lips that somehow conveyed everything words couldn't. "Me too," he murmured against my mouth.

Chapter 23: Sean

"And he just accepted it?" my grandmother asked, both eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Just like that?"

"Not exactly," I admitted, cradling my mug of hot chocolate between my hands. "There was definitely a moment where I thought he might actually short-circuit. But then he said if Lucas makes me happy, that's what matters."

"Well, I'll be," Grandma Rose chuckled, shaking her head. "Robert Mitchell, evolving. Wonders never cease."

It was Christmas Eve, and I was curled up on Rose's worn but comfortable couch, the small bungalow decorated with the same ornaments and lights she'd had since I was a child. Coming here had always felt like stepping into a warm embrace, the only place where I'd consistently felt I could just be myself.

"I was pretty shocked," I confessed. "I was prepared for disappointment and anger. The usual lecture about focus and priorities and the NHL."

"Your father has his flaws—lord knows I've spent enough years pointing them out to him—but he loves you, Sean," Rose said gently. "In his own stubborn, emotionally constipated way."

I laughed at her blunt assessment. "Guess I come by it honestly, then."

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