“You never dress up,” he murmured.
“Neither do you!” Xander responded, without thinking. Then he
realized that Chris was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt and a sport
coat, and he blushed. “You do,” he said, thinking about it now. Chris
dressed down when Xander dressed down, but he liked to look good.
When had that happened?
“Don"t worry about it,” Chris said softly. “It"s just… you look
good, Xan. You play it down, and you play down your role on the team
and… it"s like you"ve spent ten years trying to be the invisible six-foot-
116 Amy Lane
nine guy who can carry the team. You"ve got to step up, man. You"ve
got to be important.”
Xander remembered that long ago night, the one when he"d been
outside in the cold, playing with shaking hands, until an angel had
showed up, all brightness and joy, and taken his game to a thing sublime.
“I was important to you,” he said, seeing his angel, seeing his love of the
game, and feeling like they had both become bigger than that dark night
behind them.
Chris shook his head and bent to pat Mercury"s placid yellow head
and fondle Max"s golden ears. “You guys take care of him,” he told them
softly, as they rolled over into a belly-rub invitation like the shameless
attention whores they were. “He"s going to need you.”
“Where are you staying?” Xander asked belatedly, letting Chris
have his time with their babies.
“While you were out at the car, Cliff called. He heard about the
trade and he"s got a couple of guest rooms. He said I could put up there
until the end of the season.”
Xander grinned for a second. “Bet his wife"lllovethat.” They had
both stood up with Cliff when he"d gotten married to an Amazon with
the loveliest ebony skin, a passionate love of ornate golden hoop