Page 23 of The Locker Room

Amy Lane

shoulders. Coach sighed and backed away as Christian helped him

hobble off the court, and Xander found himself sat down hard on the

bleachers while he decided if the black spots dancing in front of his

vision meant business or were just fucking around and promising nausea.

Nausea would probably be a lot more likely if he wasn"t so damned

hungry, huh?

Xander blinked as a penlight was shined directly into his eyes, and

Coach"s broad, dark fingers probed his skull. Coach was a thirtyish black

man with a wife, a kid, a spreading middle, and a smart mouth, and most

of the kids would lie down in traffic and die for him. He didn"t hear

outbursts like Christian"s often, and Xander blinked hard and tried to

read the man"s expression.

“You didn"t hit your head,” Coach said with authority. He probed

Xander"s ankle, and although it was a little bruised it was definitely still

functional. “Ankle might keep you down for a day, but it"s not fatal.

Care to tell me why you were down there so long, Karcek?”

Xander tried to focus again, and got lost. “Tired,” he grunted.

“Sorry, Coach.”

“Mmm-hmm. Alright, you two. My office. Now. Jakari?”

An alumni student, who had a good job now but loved the game

enough to be Coach"s second, nodded and blew the whistle to start drills

again. Xander struggled to his feet, only to find Chris under his arm,

helping him along. He was just tired enough and needy enough to keep

his arm around Chris"s shoulder under pretense. Chris"s tight, muscular

body felt so sweet next to his, and, oh God, when they were touching he

wasn"t alone.

Together they struggled through the side door of the gym to the

white hallway, and into Coach"s office. When they got there, Coach sat

them down on his battered red couch, then offered them each a bottle of