Page 47 of The Boyfriend Zone

"I was looking for a specific reference you made about the team schedule," Nate insisted, though his blush deepened. "For the paper. Purely professional."

"Sure," Zach drawled. "Just like how you professionally stare at me during warmups."

"I'm photographing the team, you egomaniac! It's literally my job to look at you."

Lucas caught my eye across the table, amusement dancing in his expression. Watching Zach and Nate was like watching a tennis match—volleys of sarcasm and barbed compliments flying back and forth with dizzying speed.

"What do you think?" I murmured to Lucas as Nate launched into a scathing critique of Zach's "prehistoric" taste in movies, which Zach countered by citing Nate's "pretentious" preference for foreign films. "Two weeks before they finally admit they're into each other?"

"I give it one," Lucas whispered back. "Zach looks about ready to shut him up with a kiss right now."

He wasn't wrong. Despite the verbal sparring, there was an undeniable chemistry between them, an attraction they both seemed determined to disguise as animosity.

"So, Sean," Zach turned his attention to me, apparently tired of being verbally eviscerated by Nate, "when's the doc clear you for light practice? Team's not the same without you yelling at the freshmen about their sloppy defensive positioning."

"Two more weeks of PT, then reassessment," I reported. "If all goes well, I might be back on skates by January, though no contact until February at the earliest."

"Just in time for the tournament push," Nate nodded. "That's the angle I'm taking for next week's update, by the way. 'Star Defenseman's Recovery On Track, Return Could Boost Team's Tournament Hopes.'"

"Star defenseman," Zach repeated with a grin. "Your boyfriend's good for your ego, Sean."

"He's not—" I started automatically, then caught myself. Lucas and I hadn't exactly put official labels on what we were, but 'boyfriend' felt right. I glanced at Lucas, who was watching me with a mixture of amusement and something warmer. "Actually, yeah. He is good for my ego. Among other things."

Lucas's smile was worth any amount of teasing from Zach.

The four of us ended up pushing our tables together and spending the next hour in animated conversation. Nate regaled us with the story of his failed attempt to photograph a campus squirrel that ended up stealing his muffin, while Zach countered with tales of the ongoing prank war in the locker room.

It was easy, natural, the four of us together—a bridge between my world and Lucas's that I hadn't realized I needed until it existed. As Nate and Zach launched into a heated debate about which campus party had the worst music last semester, I caught Lucas's eye again, sharing a private smile at our friends' thinly-veiled flirtation.

Eventually, Nate glanced at his watch and groaned. "I've got to go. Mia wants the layout for tomorrow's edition by five, and I haven't even started the sports section."

"I'll walk with you," Lucas offered, gathering his things. "I promised Ava I'd help her edit some photos for her portfolio."

As they prepared to leave, Zach's phone buzzed. "Tristan," he explained after checking the message. "Team meeting in twenty. Want me to take notes for you, Sean?"

"Would you?" I asked gratefully. "I've got PT in half an hour anyway."

We parted ways outside the coffee shop, Nate dragging Lucas toward the journalism building while Zach headed in the opposite direction toward the athletic complex.

"Text you later?" Lucas asked, lingering as our friends walked ahead.

"You better," I smiled, feeling ridiculously happy at such a simple exchange. "Movie at my place tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

After a quick glance to ensure no one was watching—a habit I was trying to break, this reflexive caution about public displays—I leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to his lips.

"See you tonight."

As I walked to my physical therapy appointment, I couldn't wipe the smile from my face. My shoulder still ached, my hockey season was still mostly lost, and I still had a long road of recovery ahead of me. But I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, living a life that was authentically mine rather than one designed to meet others' expectations.

I pulled out my phone to find a text already waiting for me:Can't wait for tonight. Feel free to supply snacks. I'll bring the sparkling wit and dazzling conversation. - L

Laughing, I typed back:Modest as always. I'll have popcorn and my sparkling personality ready by 8. - S

I pocketed my phone, still smiling, and continued across campus with a lightness in my step that had nothing to do with physical therapy and everything to do with the life I was finally allowing myself to live.

"Truth or dare?" Jensen asked, a mischievous glint in his eye that made me instantly regret agreeing to this game.

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