I've Been Waiting All Along (Book 2 - Rock Canyon Series)

Epilogue

Epilogue – Charlie

I'm floating above my bed and then I'm gone. Out of here. Like usual.

I'll explain in a minute but first you should realize that it's not as scary as it sounds–I'm learning to get used to all kinds of new capabilities now that I'm calm. Now that I've got the right hormones in my body. Now that I'm me, a lot of things have changed for the better.

I'm glad I was patient, sorted through my shit first... and here I am 18 and living with Ty in a little hole in the wall near his campus. I dare ya to try to find a happier person. I'm feeling me so hard, bruh. I'm absolutely crushing it in the gym, even amazing Ty with how many pullups I can do in one all out set. (22 right now. Strict. Yup.)

And I'm not going to college; I'm not even sorry about it. What with the cost of college in this country and little to no government help, the heck if I'm taking out loans. Nah, I'm getting ahead instead. I'm working part-time as a barista near the college and streaming a little like Maddie used to. It's kinda weird actually, but it works. The two things provide (barely) enough money to live and eat and stuff. Which is good! Because the alternative would suck, right? Anyway, with the stream I'm doing fitness stuff, enby and trans chatting shit, playing Counter Strike halfway decently, and maybe an indie game that I can actually afford here and there. Whatever, just having fun and hanging out with my man when he's available.

Cool thing is? We're doing this ourselves. We decided we weren't accepting any financial assistance from our parents because we want to succeed together. It's me and him, sink or swim. It's been that way since Sedona. And we're never gonna change it. Right now? I got his back. I'm paying the rent so we can live together off-campus. When he gets to the NFL? That dude is gonna build me a palace fit for one sexy little prinx. That's all he talks about come the first of every month when we pay the rent. I don't think he can take me paying the bills, but I don't care. That shit doesn't faze me. I mean, I totally use it for leverage when I can–we're usually in bed or by the window or wherever within a minute of me playing that card. So, he pays, too. In his own way.

Anyway, I still drift a bit when I get going, as you can tell. So, yeah, I've started relaxing so much that I just pop spontaneously out of body here and there. I don't really know what else to say about it–my mind just gets really clear, I lay down, next thing I know I'm not in my body but fully coherent. Am I dreaming deeply and clearly because of the testosterone? Because it matches me and my brain and soul are like "fuck yeahhhh gimme that man juice?" I don't know, dude. I just don't know.

Whatever it is I'm doing, the one thing I do know is that right now I'm floating in this giant courtyard surrounding a beautiful, multi-storied house. There are maybe five stories to the structure, and it has been strategically placed in-between three massive old oaks. The sun filters through the leaves just so, striking the warm wood and field stone in a suffusion of inviting warmth. I knew instantly the first time I came here that Ty had this built for us and harassed the architect to no end to make it perfect in every way for me. Though I've seen it a few times, I still stop and stare.

I willed myself closer to the home by thinking strongly about it. Most of the walls are made of glass and there are two candles burning on the terrace of each level. They flicker gently in a soft evening breeze. There was only one or two rooms on each level, but instead of making it seem smaller, it made it seem larger, and more magical.

I come here to talk to older versions of myself. At least that's how I understand it. The first time I came I was 23, a clear bandage covering a brand new tattoo on my neck. It was Ty's face in a sexy, stony stare, the words underneath "Locked in Him." When I asked older me... them... why they would write that they just laughed and said "dude if you think mine is toxic wait until you see his." I remembered briefly wondering if 23-year-old me was possibly a bit more immature and wilder than 18-year-old me, but I let it go. I looked happy.