Page 3 of The Boyfriend Zone

I'd had good kisses before, but this—this was something else entirely. This was the kind of kiss that made me forget we were in a crowded club, that made the world narrow down to just the points where our bodies connected, the soft pressure of his lips against mine, the warmth of his hand on my face.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both slightly breathless. Sean's eyes were darker now, pupils dilated, and I was sure mine looked the same.

"Was that selective enough for you?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips that didn't quite hide the genuine attraction in his eyes.

I nodded, not trusting my voice just yet. Part of me wanted to suggest leaving together, but the rational side of my brain warned me to slow down. We'd only just met, after all.

We danced for a while after that, not the grinding type of dancing happening on the main floor, but something slower, more intimate. His hands stayed respectfully at my waist, and we talked more between songs, stealing occasional kisses that left me increasingly light-headed.

Eventually, my friends found me, ready to head home. I reluctantly pulled away from Sean, suddenly aware of how much time had passed.

"I should get going," I said, gesturing to my waiting friends.

"Yeah, me too." Was it my imagination, or did he sound as regretful as I felt?

For a moment, I almost asked for his number, the words on the tip of my tongue. But something held me back—maybe the fear of breaking the perfect bubble we'd created, or the worry that outside of this club, the magic wouldn't hold.

"It was nice meeting you, Sean," I said instead.

"You too, Lucas." He leaned in for one more brief kiss. "Maybe I'll see you here again at the club."

"Maybe," I agreed.

As I walked away to join my friends, I couldn't help glancing back once. Sean was still standing where I'd left him, watching me go with an expression I couldn't quite decipher. I raised my hand in a small wave, and he returned it, that now-familiar half-smile playing on his lips.

Chapter 2: Lucas

I woke to the sound of gunfire and shouting—which turned out to be just Nate playing one of his video games at full volume. The sunlight streaming through our half-open blinds told me it was late morning, and the dull throb behind my eyes reminded me why I didn't go clubbing often.

I shuffled out of my bedroom into our shared living space, squinting against the light.

"Well, well," Nate drawled from his spot on the couch, not looking away from his game. "Look who's finally rejoined the land of the living."

"What time is it?" I croaked, making a beeline for the coffee pot. Thank God Nate had already made a fresh batch.

"Almost noon, Sleeping Beauty." He paused his game and turned to face me, his expression gleeful. "You rolled in pretty late last night."

I poured myself a cup of coffee, buying time before facing what I knew would be a thorough interrogation. Nate and I had been flat mates since freshman year, and he'd appointed himself chief officer of my nonexistent love life. Any deviation from my usual routine was cause for celebration in his book.

"It wasn't that late," I protested weakly.

"2 AM is definitely 'that late' when you're usually in bed by eleven like an elderly librarian." Nate's eyes sparkled with mischief. "So, who was he?"

I nearly choked on my coffee. "What makes you think there was a 'he'?"

"Oh, please." Nate rolled his eyes dramatically. "You hate clubs. If you stayed until two, there had to be a reason, and since you came home alone but looking like the cat who got the cream, I'm guessing you met someone."

I sighed, knowing resistance was futile. Nate could extract information from a rock. It was what made him such a good reporter—and occasionally, an annoying roommate.

"Fine. I met someone. We talked. We danced a little. End of story."

Nate clutched his chest, falling back against the couch cushions. "Is that all I get? 'We talked'? Come on, Lucas, throw me a bone here. Was he hot? Tall? Funny? A good kisser?"

I felt heat creep up my neck at the last question, and Nate sat bolt upright, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"You kissed him! I knew it! Tell me everything right now or I swear I'll follow you around campus singing 'Kiss the Girl' until you do."

"You wouldn't."

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