Page 178 of The Locker Room

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biting things, squirming, skinless, wet and sticky, attaching to his face,

his numb arms, his stomach, his chest, his privates, and he kept his

mouth clamped shut and screamed and screamed and screamed….

“Xander!”

Was that in his dream? He couldn"t decide for a moment.

“Xander!”

He kept his eyes and his mouth clamped shut and screamed, and

then one of the dogs half-whuufed and he was startled into looking into

the dark of his room. He flailed for Chris, but Chris wasn"t there, but

Chris"s voice screamed,“Xander!”and suddenly he was bolt upright in

bed and wide awake.

“Fuck,” he muttered, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes. “Oh,

Jesus fuck me, Chris?”

“Jesus better not be fucking you, genius—that"s my job!”

Chris"s voice was faintly disembodied, and Xander turned toward

the brightened computer screen to see Chris, in a nice-looking hotel

room, looking back at him.

“Oh.” Suddenly what Chris had said penetrated, and Xander"s inner

fifth grader (never far from the surface) reared his head, and Xander

choked on a smirk. “Oh, geez, Chris, we"re going to hell for that!”

“Hey, you swore first!”

Xander fumbled for the lamp next to the bed table and blinked

while his eyes adjusted to the light.

154 Amy Lane

Chris looked… tired. His eyes were a little bloodshot, and he was

shirtless, leaning into the camera so Xander could see the blond stubble

on his jaw and the sleepies (as Andi called them) in the corners of his

eyes.

“Yeah, I did.” His dreams were always followed by a bone-drilling,

marrow-chilling cold, and Xander wrapped his arms around his knees

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