Page 66 of The Boyfriend Zone

"Me?" Lucas looked stunned. "What did I do?"

"Made him think, apparently," I shrugged, taking his hand as we began walking. "And he shared something I never knew—that his own career ended because he did exactly what I did, hiding an injury until it was too late."

I recounted the entire conversation as we strolled around campus, still processing the unexpected turn the evening had taken. Lucas listened intently, squeezing my hand at the right moments, asking questions that helped me make sense of the shifting relationship with my father.

"I was prepared to choose my own path even without his blessing," I admitted as we stopped again by the fountain, its lights illuminating the water in the darkness. "But having it, or something close to it... it's a relief I didn't know I needed."

"I guess this means I'll have to be on my best behavior when I meet your dad in person," Lucas joked, though I could see genuine happiness for me in his eyes.

"You already won him over with your writing," I assured him. "Just talk about hockey and you'll be fine. But thank you. For being stubborn enough not to give up on me. For teaching me to trust. For being with me even when I was at my worst."

"You've done the same for me," Lucas replied, his hand coming up to rest against my cheek. "Shown me that doing the right thing isn't always what's easiest or most obvious. That integrity sometimes means putting someone else's well-being above a story."

No further words were necessary as I leaned down to kiss him. Lucas responded in kind, his arms circling my neck as he pressed closer, the warmth of his body a counterpoint to the cool evening air.

When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Lucas smiled up at me with that particular expression that never failed to make my heart skip.

"So," he said lightly, "I have a journalism ethics paper to write tonight. Want to come over and distract me from being productive?"

"How could I possibly refuse such a romantic invitation?" I laughed, taking his hand again as we turned toward his apartment. "Lead the way, Lucas. I'll try to keep the distractions to a minimum."

"Don't you dare," he retorted, bumping his shoulder against mine playfully. "I've earned some high-quality distractions after that article draft."

Chapter 21: Sean

"Has Nate said anything to you?" I asked, watching Lucas flip through his textbook with the distracted air of someone whose mind was elsewhere. We were curled up on his couch, theoretically studying, but mostly finding excuses to kiss between highlighted paragraphs.

"About what?"

"About Zach," I clarified. "They've been hanging out a lot lately, but Zach's been weirdly quiet about it."

It was true—my best friend, who typically had no filter about his social life, had been suspiciously vague about his increasingly frequent "coffee meetings" and "casual hangouts" with Nate. Something was definitely developing there, but neither of them seemed willing to acknowledge it.

"Nothing specific," Lucas admitted, setting his book aside. "Just that they've been getting along better. Watching games together, texting. You know, friend stuff."

I raised an eyebrow. "Friend stuff?"

"That's what he calls it," Lucas shrugged. "Who am I to question his categorization of his own relationships?"

"You, who interrogate people professionally?"

"That's different," Lucas protested with a laugh. "That's for journalism. This is delicate."

Before I could press further, the apartment door flew open with a bang. Nate stormed in, his face a thundercloud of emotion. He barely acknowledged our presence as he dropped heavily into an armchair across from us, glaring at the coffee table as if it had personally offended him.

Lucas shot me a concerned glance before addressing his friend. "Nate? Everything okay?"

"Absolutely peachy," Nate replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just another wonderful day in paradise."

"That bad, huh?" Lucas set his book aside completely. "What happened?"

Nate sighed dramatically, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Nothing important. Just your typical case of expectations versus reality."

"Does this have anything to do with why my phone has been blowing up with texts from Zach for the last hour?" I asked, pulling out my phone to show the stream of increasingly desperate messages from Zach. "He seems to think he's ruined everything, but won't tell me whateverythingis."

Nate's expression darkened further. "Of course he thinks he's the victim here. Typical."

"Want to tell us your side, then?" Lucas suggested gently. "You look like you need to vent."

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