Page 245 of The Locker Room

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212 Amy Lane

the big wraparound window at the lake in the place he and Xander had

made their home.

Xander had slept on the couch next to him, and woke up in time to

see the realization dawn in his eyes that he was home, and that he never

had to leave.

“Dayum,” Chris murmured softly. “That"s some view, right?”

Folsom Lake was not the prettiest place on the planet, although it

was one of the few large bodies of water in this part of the state. “It"s

perfect,” Xander said sincerely.

Chris turned his head a little and said, “You"re not even looking at

the view, Xan.”

“I"m looking at all I need to.”

Chris looked down at his legs, bulky under the inflatable casts and

the blankets. His feet had been left relatively unscathed—the physics of

injury were sometimes the strangest and most twisted magics—and he

wiggled his bare pink toes at the foot of the bed.

“Me too,” he answered, looking back at Xander.

“You know, right?” Xander said apprehensively.

“Know what?”

“I"d be here even if they didn"t work. If you"d never walk again, or

couldn"t feel a thing. You know I"d still be here. I"m glad—so… you just

don"t even know how grateful I am, that you will walk again. But all I

used to need was you and basketball. Now, it"s only you. Any shape

you"re in, that"s all I want. You know that, right?”

Chris blinked hard, and blinked again, and then gave it up and

wiped his eyes. “Aw, Xander. Fuck you. Why? Why you gotta say shit

like that. It totally just levels me off at the balls.”

Xander grinned, appreciating the freedom he had to be himself with

Chris as he had with nobody else. “Well, as long as your balls are getting

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