Page 74 of The Boyfriend Zone

"The stubbornness, absolutely," she agreed with a wink. "Though you've been making progress on the emotional constipation, from what I can tell."

Heat rose to my cheeks. "Yeah, well... Lucas has helped with that. A lot."

"I like him already," Rose declared, though she'd never met him beyond that brief interaction the night of my injury. "When do I get to properly meet this young man who's finally gotten my grandson to use his words?"

"I don't know, maybe spring break?" I suggested. "If he wants to, I mean. We haven't really talked about it yet."

"Well, you make sure to invite him," Rose instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I need to thank him personally for getting you to open up, and for writing that article that finally made your father rethink some things."

"I will," I promised, already imagining Lucas here, fitting seamlessly into this warm space, charming my grandmother as easily as he'd charmed me.

The thought of Lucas sent a familiar pang through my chest. It had only been five days since we'd parted for winter break, but I missed him with an intensity that caught me by surprise. We'd been texting constantly, of course, but it wasn't the same as having him beside me, seeing his smile in person, feeling the warmth of his hand in mine.

As if sensing my thoughts, my phone buzzed with a new message. I pulled it out to find a photo from Lucas—him in what was clearly his childhood bedroom, surrounded by books and wearing a Santa hat, making a comically sad face with the caption:Missing you. Mom says hi and wants to know if you're eating enough vegetables.

I smiled, quickly typing back:Tell her I am, though mostly because my grandmother force-feeds me salad. Missing you too. FaceTime tonight?

His response was immediate:Obviously. 10pm? Mom's dragging me to the neighbors' holiday gathering until then.

10 it is. Wear the Santa hat, it's cute.

I could almost see his eye-roll at that, but I knew he'd secretly be pleased. That was one of the things I loved about Lucas—the way he pretended to be annoyed by my compliments while simultaneously blushing and trying not to smile.

Loved. The word had slipped into my thoughts so naturally, so easily, that I almost missed its significance. Did I love Lucas? The idea should have terrified me, sent me running for the emotional hills. Instead, it felt like the most obvious truth in the world, settling into my chest with comfortable certainty.

"You've got that look again," Rose observed, pulling me from my thoughts. "The one that says you're thinking about him."

"Is it that obvious?" I asked, pocketing my phone.

"To someone who's known you your whole life? Yes." She reached over to pat my knee. "It's nice to see you like this, Sean. Happy. Real."

"I am," I realized, the simple truth of it washing over me. "Happier than I've been in... maybe ever."

Rose smiled, satisfied. "Good. That's all I've ever wanted for you, you know. Not trophies or scholarships or professional contracts. Just happiness."

I leaned over to hug her, inhaling the familiar scent of her lavender perfume. "I know, Grandma. And thank you for always seeing me. The real me."

"Always will," she promised, squeezing me tightly before releasing me. "Now, tell me more about this Lucas. What's he studying? What are his interests? Does he have any food allergies I should know about for when he visits?"

I laughed, settling in to tell her everything about Lucas—his passion for journalism, his terrible taste in movies, the way his face scrunched up when he was concentrating hard on writing. Rose listened attentively, asking questions and occasionally making notes, clearly filing away information for future use.

By the time I video called Lucas that night, curled up in my childhood bedroom with the string lights Rose had hung years ago still twinkling above me, I'd come to a decision. I wasn't going to say the L-word yet—that felt like something that should happen in person, when we were together again. But I could show him, in other ways, how deeply I cared.

"There's my favorite Santa," I grinned when his face appeared on my screen, the promised hat still perched jauntily on his head. "How was the neighbor party?"

"Endless," Lucas groaned, flopping back against his pillows. "Mrs. Henderson asked me three separate times what my plans are after graduation, as if I haven't told her the exact same thing every time I've seen her for the past ten years."

"Which is...?"

"Journalism, obviously," Lucas rolled his eyes. "Though according to her, 'newspapers are dying' and I should 'consider something in computers.'"

I laughed at his accurate impression of what was clearly a neighborhood busybody. "Computers, huh? Very specific career advice."

"Oh, it gets better," Lucas continued, warming to his rant. "She then proceeded to tell me about her nephew who 'does computers' and makes 'very good money.' When I asked what specifically he does, she had no idea. Just 'computers.'"

"Sounds lucrative," I teased. "Maybe you should reconsider your life choices."

"Absolutely," Lucas agreed solemnly. "I'll switch my major to 'computers' first thing in January."

---