Page 15 of The Boyfriend Zone

"And what happens if hockey isn't everything for you?"

The question caught me off guard. No one had ever asked me that before—not directly, not in a way that acknowledged there might be a "Sean" separate from "Sean the hockey player."

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I've never really let myself think about it."

Lucas nodded, his expression thoughtful. For a moment, I thought he might press further, but he seemed to sense my discomfort and changed the subject.

"So, what's your least favorite workout?" he asked, gesturing to the gym around us.

"Easy. Burpees." I made a face. "Whoever invented those was a sadist."

Lucas laughed, the sound echoing in the empty gym. "I knew there was a reason I avoided them. I always feel like a dying fish flopping around."

"Exactly! And trainers always act like they're so essential. 'Great full-body exercise, Sean. Really builds explosive power.'" I mimicked our strength coach's enthusiastic tone.

"While you're lying there contemplating why you ever left your bed."

We were both chuckling now, the earlier tension dissipating. It felt good, this easy back-and-forth, reminiscent of our conversation at the club but without the pressure of performance or expectation.

Lucas shifted, closing his notebook. "Listen, about what you said before—"

"We don't have to talk about that," I interrupted quickly.

"Actually, I think we do." He met my eyes directly. "I was disappointed when you asked me to pretend nothing happened between us, but I didn't fully understand why it was necessary. That was unfair of me."

I blinked, surprised by his apology. "Oh."

"I get that coming out is personal, and no one should be pressured into it," he continued. "Especially when there are career implications. So I wanted to say I respect your decision, and I'll honor our agreement to keep things professional."

The sincerity in his voice made my chest ache. Most guys would have been angry, resentful of being asked to stay in the shadows. But here was Lucas, apologizing to me for not being understanding enough.

"I appreciate that," I said, suddenly feeling ashamed of my behavior. "And I'm sorry for how I handled things. You deserved better than being treated like a stranger."

"Thank you." A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. "I actually wasn't sure you'd be speaking to me at all after I asked about your shoulder."

I tensed involuntarily. "About that—"

"You don't have to explain," Lucas cut in. "Your health is your business. I shouldn't have pried."

But he had pried, and he'd been right to notice something was off. The lie stuck in my throat as I mumbled, "It's nothing serious."

Lucas's expression told me he didn't believe me, but he didn't challenge the statement. Instead, he changed the subject again.

"Can I ask you something else? Something personal?"

I should have said no. Should have maintained the boundaries I'd established for a reason. But something in his earnest expression made me nod instead.

"How long have you known? That you're bisexual, I mean."

The question was asked gently, with genuine curiosity rather than judgment. Still, I glanced around reflexively, confirming we were still alone.

"I've known for a while," I admitted. "Since high school, probably. But I've been... ignoring it, I guess. Dating girls exclusively, convincing myself it was just a phase."

"What changed?"

I met his eyes. "I met you."

The words hung between us, more honest than I'd intended to be. Lucas's eyes widened slightly, a flush creeping up his neck.

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