“Kiss-ass,” I hiss, and Caleb laughs, “You wish.”
Mom shakes her head, used to our antics. It’s just the way we are. We always give each other shit. Caleb is like the older brother I never had. I’ve always felt safe around him. Loved and accepted. He’d make a great dad one day, but I don’t think he wants kids. I’m not sure I do either. Not because I don’t like kids. I do. I’m just not sure that I’d be any good at it.
“Dad’s in the back,” Mom says, and that’s our cue to get out of her domain before she kicks us out.
We find Dad lounging in a chair on the back deck, throwing a tennis ball toward the back of the yard. Spirit, our nine-year-old greyhound, takes off like the ground is on fire, her tongue lolling out. She’s a rescue that Dad and Caleb found on the docks one morning when they opened the shop. She was just a skinny pup back then, all paws and snout. I put my fingers to my lips and whistle. Spirit freezes mid-run, the tennis balllong forgotten. In a flash, she turns, then sprints toward me. I catch her midair, and she almost knocks me over.
I’ve gained both weight and strength since I started testosterone four years ago. My lean muscles have gotten thicker with more definition. My legs, which were always strong and athletic, have gotten wider and more muscular too, with denser dark blond hair covering them.
Spirit starts licking my face overenthusiastically, and I squirm away. “Hey there, spitfire,” I coo, and her tail slaps against my bare thigh. I’m in cutoffs and a simple fitted tee. Long gone are the days when I’d hide behind oversize hoodies and baggy sweats, even in the summer.
Dad shakes his head, then grabs a beer from the cooler and hands it to Caleb. “Just put that overgrown pup down, Kayden. I’m still not sure you should be lifting her like that. She’s heavier than she looks.” Dad’s eyes fill with worry, and I remember the look on his unusually pale face when he picked up Mom and me from the outpatient clinic after I had top surgery. A mix of pain and pride. Pain because he could tell his child was in pain. Pride because… yeah, well, because he’s proud of me. I know he is. He knew how long I’d been wanting it, dreaming about it.
“It’s been six months, Dad.” Still, I put Spirit down, and she collapses on top of my feet. I bend and scratch her behind her ear, then push her away and walk toward Dad, where he hands me a beer, too. I hold the cool bottle against my forehead and catch Caleb staring at my flat chest. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. It’s hard not to get caught in my head sometimes when I’m around people who knew me before I transitioned. It’s easier with strangers. To them, I’m just Kayden, a man on the outside as much as I’ve always been on the inside. Well, that part is easier at least. It’s the trusting part that’s hard. Having to trust someone enough to tell them what I’ve gone through to get to where I am today.
Caleb looks up from my chest, and our eyes lock. He smiles almost shyly when he realizes I caught him. Then he lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long sip. He tilts back his head, his corded neck tanned. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows. A few drops of sweat slide from his hair and down his temples, and I involuntarily lick my lips. Caleb’s hot whichever way you choose to look at it, and I’m a guy who likes other guys.
“Goddamn brutal,” Caleb murmurs against the bottle. It’s only mid-May, but you’d think it was July already. Sweat beads at the back of my neck, and I’m probably sweating through my T-shirt.
“How’s the apartment coming along?” Dad stands from his chair and comes to hug me. We’re a family of huggers.
“It’s good, Dad.”
“You settling in okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
Suddenly, I’m back in my bedroom at my new apartment downtown, my chest heaving from coming harder than ever before. My dick pulsed between my fingers long after I’d closed downPulse. That guy.BigOnBacks.That was so fucking hot. The hottest I’ve had so far. I still haven’t hooked up with anyone outside the safety of the app. I don’t do random hookups. I don’t feel safe doing it. It needs to be someone I truly trust the first time I do it, someone who’s okay with me being trans. I haven’t mentioned on myPulseprofile that I am trans masc, and I only share photos of myself that don’t reveal that I am. If I meet someone on there that I want more with, I’ll tell them, but for now, it just saysgay.
“When’s the housewarming?” Caleb winks at me.
“Haha, very funny.” I moved in a week and a half ago, and it’s still a mess. I’m still waiting for the frame I ordered for my bed, so my mattress is on the floor. The walls are bare, and my clothes are still in bags in one corner. I need to get it sorted. In a week, I start working with Dad and Caleb. I studied graphic design at college, so I’ll be managing their social media accounts and redesigning their website. I already have a ton of ideas, and I’m eager to start.
“What you could do is come help me sometime? Put up some fucking lights so I don’t trip over my own feet in the dark.” I tip my chin defiantly, and Caleb gapes at me, all stunned. I fucking love giving him shit.
“Oh, Caleb will have more time on his hands now,” Dad hums, elbowing Caleb in the ribs.
“Oh yeah? How come? You finally had enough of him and fired his ass?”
It’s a standing joke between them that Dad could actually fire Caleb if he wanted to. Dad owns 51% of the company, and Caleb 49%. When I once asked why it’s like that, Mom laughed and said it had to be that way. Because they’re both people pleasers, and if it were 50/50 and one didn’t hold the majority, they’d never get any bigger decisions made. They apparently didrock, paper, scissors, and when Dad won, they argued about it for half an hour, Dad insisting it was best out of five, and Caleb arguing that it was best out of three, and that Dad won fair and square.
“Nope,” Caleb blushes, his gaze dipping to his worn boots. “Stace dumped me.” I have no idea who Stace is. The only Stace I know is Stacey Kennan, who’s the general manager down atWallace’s. The gorgeous blonde cheerleader look-a-like with the—
I bend over, choking on a laugh. “Oh no, you didn’t! That’s bold even for you, Caleb.” I rest my hands on my knees as I continue to laugh.My chest heaves, and I love the feeling of lightness. In the beginning, when I laughed, my incisions pulled at my skin, and it hurt like hell, but now that I’ve healed, I just feel light and free. The scars are still very clear against my skin, pink and a little raised, but the surgeon assured me that they’ll fade over time. I don’t mind, though. I kind of like that I can see them. They remind me of how far I’ve come and of the battles I’ve fought to get here.
“Yeah, not exactly one of my finer moments,” Caleb mumbles, looking all self-conscious, before he takes another sip from his beer.
“Does that mean my first job on Monday will be browsing the internet for a new paint supplier?”
“Nah, it ain’t that bad. Stace is cool. She knew going in that I’m not in it for the long haul.” Caleb shrugs, but a trace of regret coats his deep voice. I know Caleb. He’s not an asshole. He doesn’t take any pleasure in breaking people’s hearts, and I know he’s broken his fair share over the years.
“Dinner’s ready, boys!” Mom yells as she steps out onto the deck, the steaming casserole in her hands. I secretly rejoice in the collectiveboys.I’m a boy. Well, a man. One of the guys. And I’m home with my three favorite people in the world, aside from Emily, who’s still in Boston, starting med school soon.
“Looks amazing as always, Viv.” Caleb pats his stomach, then moves to help Mom with the pot.
“It’s almost the way I wanted it. I realized too late that I’d run out of nutmeg, but I guess you boys will just have to bear with me.”
Dad and I groan in unison because there’s always somethingwrongwith Mom’s famous chicken casserole, although it’s always mouthwateringly perfect.