Page 92 of The Boyfriend Zone

I nodded, following him toward the balcony doors where the cool night air provided a welcome respite from the crowded ballroom.

Sean's arms circled my waist from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder as we looked out over the familiar landscape that had been our home for the past few years.

"Hard to believe it's almost over," I said softly, leaning back against his chest. "Sometimes it feels like I just arrived here, and sometimes it feels like I've been here forever."

"I know what you mean," Sean agreed, his breath warm against my ear. "But it's not really ending, is it? Just changing."

I turned in his arms to face him, studying the features that had become so dear to me. "You got those acceptance letters yesterday, right? The development camp?"

Sean nodded, his expression a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. "And the grad assistant position is still open if I want to come back."

"And I got the internship," I confirmed, the news still fresh enough to send a thrill through me whenever I thought about it. "We have choices. Good ones."

"Fate aligned our locations pretty perfectly," Sean observed, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Both in Boston for the summer."

"And after that?" I asked, the question that had been hovering between us for weeks finally surfacing.

"I want to give pro hockey a real shot," Sean said honestly. "See if the camp leads to something. If not, or after—" he shrugged, the gesture conveying both acceptance and anticipation, "—I'll come back, maybe do the masters, play or coach or both."

"And I'll still have my senior year," I acknowledged. "But I've already been looking at grad schools and media jobs in whichever city you might end up in."

The plan had formed organically over weeks of conversations—not a detailed roadmap, but a shared commitment to figuring it out together, to making decisions that would allow us to build a life without either of us sacrificing our individual goals.

"Are you scared?" Sean asked suddenly, his eyes searching mine. "We've had this bubble here, you know? Where everyone's on our side, where things make sense."

I understood what he was really asking—if I was nervous about leaving the supportive environment of campus, about facing the wider world as a couple and as individuals chasing careers that might not always align neatly.

"A little," I admitted, seeing no reason to pretend otherwise. "But we've handled scarier things, haven't we?"

Sean's smile was answer enough, the love in his eyes warming me more effectively than any reassurance could have. Before he could respond verbally, the sound of music drifted out from the ballroom—a nostalgic playlist of songs from our freshman year, apparently selected to evoke maximum sentimentality.

Through the glass doors, we could see that a spontaneous dance had started, with couples forming on the makeshift dance floor. Zach was twirling Nate in an exaggerated, theatrical manner that had them both laughing despite Nate's token protests.

"May I have this dance?" Sean asked, bowing with mock formality.

"How could I refuse such a gallant invitation?" I replied, taking his outstretched hand.

We rejoined the party, finding a space on the edge of the dance floor as a slow song began. Sean's arms circled my waist, mine around his neck, our bodies swaying gently to the music. Around us, our friends and teammates moved in similar patterns—Zach and Nate no longer pretending their closeness was anything but romantic, Ava dancing with one of the freshman players who had been trying to work up the courage to ask her all evening, Coach Barnett and his wife of thirty years moving with the comfortable synchronicity of a long-married couple.

I tried to take a mental snapshot of this moment—the warm glow of the lights, the familiar faces surrounding us, the solid presence of Sean in my arms. This perfect, fleeting intersection of past and future, where everything felt possible and nothing felt out of reach.

Life wouldn't always be this picture-perfect, I knew. There would be challenges ahead—road trips apart, new pressures, maybe even public scrutiny if Sean's hockey career took off. But in that moment, swaying in the arms of the man I loved, surrounded by people who supported us, I couldn't bring myself to worry about any of it.

Chapter 30: Sean

The weight room at the minor league training facility was practically empty at this hour, just a few dedicated souls getting in extra work before the day officially began. I focused on my form as I completed another set of shoulder stabilization exercises, the familiar burn a reminder of how far I'd come since my injury.

"Looking good, Sean," the team's strength coach commented as he passed. "But don't push it too hard. We've got a full team workout this afternoon."

"Just finishing up," I assured him, setting the resistance band aside. "Want to be fresh for tonight."

Tonight. The thought sent a flutter of anticipation through my stomach that had everything to do with Lucas finally, officially moving in. We'd seen each other regularly throughout the summer—me at the development camp that had turned into a spot on the farm team, him at his internship with the Tribune—but with our respective temporary housing situations, we'd been living separately for the past two months.

That ended today. Our new apartment awaited, a modest one-bedroom halfway between the rink and the city's media district where Lucas had managed to parlay his internship into a part-time position while he completed his degree remotely.

I showered and changed quickly after finishing my workout, eager to get to the apartment and start setting up before Lucas arrived with the last of his things. My phone buzzed as I was leaving the facility, a text from Lucas lighting up the screen:Just finished packing the last box. Heading to the apartment now. Bringing lunch!

I smiled, typing back a quick response:On my way. Don't start unpacking without me!

---