Page 169 of The Locker Room

Xan@CE--Please.

CE@Xan--Then of course.

The Locker Room 145

Xan@CE--I set up the computer—we can do the conference thing.

CE@Xan--Good. I miss your face.

Xan@CE--I miss everything.

CE@Xan--I gotta go, man. I"m supposed to be buzzed. Love you

Xan@CE--Love you too.

Well, it didn"t actually give him a woody, but he figured that would

come when he finally climbed in bed. He"d made Leo help him with the

damned computer and the video, and he"d set it up by the bedstand

deliberately. He had to get used to sleeping in that bed alone, or he

wasn"t going to get used to getting any sleep at all. This way, he"d have a

reason not to fall asleep on the couch. Either way the bad dreams would

come, but in the bed, at least Chris would be there in the morning.

Xander looked up from his conversation and realized that most of

the locker room had cleared out. He was surprised—and unsettled. The

last time he"d been in there when it was this quiet was when he and Chris

had been busted. A good memory and a bad one, he guessed—just like a

lot of the sport. With a sigh, he leveraged himself up on his crutches, put

on his trench coat and scarf, and swung himself across the room behind

most of the rest of the team.

The town car hadn"t arrived yet, although he"d called them before

he texted Chris, and he settled himself on the crutches to wait as the last

of the team got in their own vehicles.

“Hey, Xander—you want a ride to the bar?” Burkins asked, and

Xander had to hold up his hands.

“Going home to baby the foot,” he said cheerfully. “Have a good

time, though!”

He waited patiently, looking out at the parking lot—it was still lit