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Authors: Amy Lane

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expected anybody to follow him unless he"d been on the court. And then,

they"d only followed him because he usually managed to be down court

first.

But then, he did have a point. If there was ever proof that a mercy-

killing rule was needed in pro sports, this game was it.

He must have done
something,
he conceded, because there was a

noticeable difference in the second half. Not enough to fix a thirty-point

lead, but enough to make the game un-embarrassing, and that was

something.

Xander kept up with Chris"s game on his phone as he sat through

the press conference with the other players, and saw that Denver was

primed to win. He left a text, “Better you than me, buddy,” before

standing up and looking official to escort the team down to the locker

room.

The team spent a lot of time clapping him on the back and telling

him thank you. He felt obligated to hang out for a while until the room

had cleared out. Strange, yes, but true. He spent that time texting Chris—

because Denver
had
won, and even if he wasn"t going to get postgame

sex, he could at least get postgame sex
ting.

Xan@CE--Nicely done, hotshot—28 pts, not bad.

CE@Xan--Cliff had a good night too.

Xan@CE--Yeah, but Cliff doesn"t give victory blow jobs

CE@Xan--grrrrr--and tonight, neither do I-how"s the foot?

Xan@CE--Looks like a seal flipper, hurts like a seal bit it, chewed

it, and ate it.

CE@Xan--ROFL--well hang in there, seal bait—you"ll be up on it

soon.

Xan@CE--R U calling in the morning again?

CE@Xan--Do you want me to?

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

by the sodium lights, which turned the January fog into a surreal pink,

and it was hard to see much beyond that electric wool blanket. But he

could hear just fine.

“No, asshole. I told you we were through. I got my shit out of the

apartment this morning, and you"re not getting another chance to hurt

me, you hear?”

146 Amy Lane

Xander blinked. He knew that voice. He stood and started moving

to the corner of the building where the women"s locker rooms emerged,

trying to figure out which of the dancers was currently sounding
very

pissed off, and not a little bit distressed.

“Look, Mandy—if you"ll just listen, I swear, I"ll never touch you

like that again!”

“You"re goddamned right you won"t…
fuck.
Let go, Derek—Jesus,

ouch!” Xander heard the sounds of a scuffle, plus a lot of “Goddammit,

stop it, bitch, I"m just tryin" to tell you something, you fucking moron!”

as he hauled his lame ass around that corner.

He was unsurprised to see Mandy (thank you, asshole ex-

boyfriend, for the name, he would have forgotten it!) struggling with a

squat, powerful man with an ethnic potluck of features—slightly dark

skin, blue eyes, high cheekbones, square jaw—that Xander could

actually see the attraction. The guy must have been awfully pretty before

he opened his mouth up and talked.

And right now, he had Mandy"s arm behind her, and was yanking

on it brutally every time she screamed (which was often—go Mandy!)

and Xander didn"t do a lot of thinking in the next couple of seconds.

Neither of them had heard Xander come up behind them, so the guy

didn"t even turn around as Xander swung up his crutch and brought it

down with controlled force on the back of Derek"s head.

He crumpled to the ground like a used pair of jeans, and Mandy

whirled around, gasping, to see what had happened to the guy who"d just

been practically breaking her arm.

“Jesus,” she said, shaking out her arm and her hand with obvious

pain. “Xander Karcek? You just… well… did you kill him?”

Derek moved on the ground and moaned a little, and Mandy kicked

him in the ribs, platform spike heel and all.

“C"mon,” she said decisively. “Let"s go around the corner before

he comes to. It would be better for everybody if he never figures out who

just gave him a big lump on his noggin, okay?”

Xander nodded and turned back around, following the girl"s lead as

she clicked purposefully through the fog back the way Xander had come.

The Locker Room 147

When they got there, Xander"s car was waiting, and Xander turned

to the girl to make sure she was going to be all right. “Um, Mandy? Do

you need a ride somewhere?”

She nodded, suddenly shaking in aftermath, and he realized she

was about the most forlorn thing he"d ever seen. Her eyes were black

with mascara—the girls had been heavily made up for their last dance—

and it was running down her cheeks. Her high ponytail extension was

coming out, and her mid-length hair was a mess of pins and escaping

tendrils as it drooped from an escaped chunk of the real hair that had

been anchoring it in the right spot. Her coat was torn, and she was

rubbing her shoulder with force, as though something hadn"t quite

popped back in.

But when Xander asked her, she shook her head and bit her lip.

“I—” she started, and then reaction set in and her lower lip started to

quiver alarmingly, and then her face lost all composition and began to

squash together like artwork in the rain.

Xander was completely helpless. He knew nothing about women

except that they smelled good and he admired the pretty ones, but they

didn"t get him hard or make his breath come quick or do anything at all

for him. But he thought about what he"d want for Penny, if she were ever

in a situation like this, and he put one of his crutches under his other arm,

and held out a hand for the poor kitten who had, all things considered,

put up a pretty good fight.

She ran into him and started to cry, and although he heard about

one word in seven, the four he did make out came up as, “No place to

staaaaayyyyyyyy!!!” and he sighed. Well, why not? Penny would be

there, she could set Mandy up in a guest bedroom. It"s not like they

didn"t have, like, ten of them.

The driver had gotten out and was holding the door open

solicitously, and Xander said, “Um, Mandy? Hey, you want to stay at our

place? We"ve got room.”

“Who"s we?” Mandy asked, her voice muffled from his chest, and

Xander said, “Me and Chris,” without thinking. She didn"t say anything,

though, as they got into the car. Tim—who was their driver most nights,

because he"d filled out the confidentiality agreement and was a sweet

guy with a wife and a kid and loved the game—got a blanket from the

148 Amy Lane

back and wrapped her up in it as she continued to lean into Xander"s

warmth. Xander sighed. God. A girl. All those horrible nights of sleeping

with strangers like an unfortunate job requirement, and now he had a girl

staying at his place because he bashed her boyfriend on the head with a

club. The world was beyond funny—it was now just fucking odd.

Penny was up when he got to the house, and the dogs perked up

from her side (they were
not
supposed to be on the couch) to come sniff

the new person. Mandy took a look at the big dog coming to sniff her

crotch (and one behind to sniff the same place from a different angle)

and gave a little shriek, then backed up and scrambled onto the counter

that separated the kitchen from the front room. She tottered there, in her

costume miniskirt and tube top, under a giant, knee-length parka, and

looked at the two curious dogs with big, heavily made-up brown eyes.

Penny looked at her in her jeans and sweatshirt, and her un-

powdered nose wrinkled. “Um, Xander? Something you haven"t told us

about?”

Xander shrugged. “Mandy, this is Penny. She"s Chris"s sister, and

she lives here. Penny, this is Mandy. I just knocked her douchebag ex-

boyfriend unconscious with my crutch. She"s also,” he said, looking at

the two dogs who were sitting now, tongues lolling, looking at this new

playtoy with great anticipation, “afraid of dogs.”

“Oh,” Penny said carefully. “Where were you thinking she"d

sleep?”

Xander shrugged. “One of the big guest bedrooms in the other

wing. But I was hoping you"d have some sweats or something she could

borrow. We"ve got a bunch of franchise stuff, but it"s all in Chris"s size.”

“That"s no worries,” Mandy chattered, and Xander grimaced up at

her. She was really scared, and he really had no clues as to what to do to

with her. “I don" mind no supersize clothes, right?” Mandy had pretty,

Latina features, with high cheekbones and a delicate nose and chin. It

was obvious that the stress of the night was bringing out her accent, and

Xander sighed.

“Max! Merk! C"mere, guys. Up to the room, "kay?” Both dogs

looked at him reluctantly, but Xander reached into the box of treats that

they kept ready on the counter and they perked up right quick. Xander

heaved himself forward and started taking the stairs one at a time, with

The Locker Room 149

the dogs in tow, and behind him he heard Penny talking Mandy down

from the counter.

The dogs had a big floppy pillow in Xander and Chris"s room as

well, and Xander threw the treats on the bed and watched as they made

themselves comfy.

“Are you proud of yourselves?” he asked rhetorically. “You

frightened the poor abused cheerleader. Seriously—if you were any more

ferocious, I"d have people-pee on my kitchen counter. That"s

disgusting—you guys would have been sniffing it for years.”

Max, the long-boned one with the big floppy ears looked at him

soulfully, and Mercury grinned a crooked dog smile, and parked his chin

on top of Max"s head. Neither of them looked particularly contrite, and

Xander sighed as he stripped off his slacks and his jacket and went

rooting around for some sweats.

He was pulling a sweatshirt over his head when there was a knock

at the door, right before it opened. He looked at Penny reprovingly.

“I could have been naked!”

“Which would have been more uncomfortable for you than it

would be for me,” she told him amiably. “I got your cheerleader settled

down with a snack and the television, and one of those giant stuffed lions

that the franchise gave you that one year, and I think she"s going to be

okay. You clocked her boyfriend on the head with your crutch?”

Xander shrugged and chucked the crutches down next to the bed

before throwing himself on top of the covers ass first. With a grunt, he

rooted around for the remote so he could watch the big screen on the

wall. Yeah, yeah, sometimes fame and fortune had its perks. He"d trade

everything including the dogs to have Chris in the bed next to him, and

that wasn"t an exaggeration. Hell, it wasn"t even a sacrifice. (Okay—the

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