Page 8 of The Boyfriend Zone

Sean ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, a gesture so familiar from last night that it made my chest ache. "I didn't know you were a reporter."

"And that matters because...?"

"It's complicated."

"Try me."

He took a deep breath. "Last night was real, okay? But no one here knows that I'm..." He lowered his voice. "Bisexual. No one."

The admission took some of the wind out of my sails. "Oh."

"Yeah." Sean's expression was pained. "I'm not ashamed of it, but my life is complicated right now. There's a lot riding on this season, scouts watching, and I just can't afford any distractions or complications."

"And I'm a complication," I stated flatly.

"That's not what I meant." He stepped closer, then seemed to think better of it. "God, Lucas, you have no idea how hard it was to pretend I didn't know you in there. To act like I hadn't been thinking about last night all day."

My heart skipped at that, but I kept my expression neutral. "So what now? We pretend we're strangers all season?"

"I think that would be best," he said, though he didn't sound convinced. "For both of us."

"Both of us," I repeated. "Right."

Sean looked miserable. "I'm sorry. If things were different..."

"But they're not." I took a step back. "Fine. As far as anyone knows, we met for the first time today. Professional relationship only."

Relief and something like disappointment flickered across his face. "Thank you."

I turned to go, then paused. "Just one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Your shoulder. You flinched when that player checked you in the second period. Are you injured?"

Sean's expression instantly shuttered. "I just lost my balance. It's nothing."

I could tell he was lying, but I didn't push it. "If you say so. See you around, Sean."

I walked away, feeling his eyes on my back but refusing to turn around. Something told me there was more to Sean than he was letting on.

Chapter 3: Sean

I charged across the ice, tracking the opposing forward like a hawk. The guy had already slipped past two of our players, and I wasn't about to let him get a clean shot on our goalie. I timed my approach carefully, bracing for impact as I angled my body to cut off his path.

The collision was like hitting a brick wall. We crashed into the boards together, the sound of our bodies and equipment smacking against the plexiglass echoing through the arena. A sharp stab of pain shot through my already tender right shoulder, and I bit down hard on my mouthguard to keep from making a sound.

The crowd roared their approval as the puck skittered harmlessly away, retrieved by one of my teammates. I pushed off from the boards, ignoring the throbbing in my shoulder. No way was I showing weakness, not with scouts in the stands and my teammates counting on me.

"Nice hit, Sean!" Coach shouted from the bench as I skated past.

I nodded in acknowledgment, but my eyes were drawn to the press box above the stands. I couldn't see him clearly from this distance, but I knew Lucas was up there, watching the game, watching me. Probably taking notes on that beat-up notebook I'd seen him with earlier.

Lucas. The guy from the club. The guy I'd kissed like my life depended on it, only to pretend I didn't know him a few hours later. God, I was an asshole.

But what choice did I have? No one on the team knew I was bisexual. Hell, I'd barely acknowledged it to myself until recently. And with scouts at every game, my father breathing down my neck about my NHL prospects, and a shoulder injury I was desperately trying to hide, the last thing I needed was another complication.

Even if that complication had the most captivating eyes I'd ever seen and a smile that made my chest feel too tight.

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