This was everything. My whole world was around me. Friends, found family, the love of my life. This was the new life I’d built, and I hadn’t built it alone. I stared into Ryker’s eyes as the song finished.
“Make a wish,” Ryker whispered to me.
I closed my eyes, blowing out the singular, long candle in the middle of the cake. I didn’t need to make a wish, though.
My eyes opened, and I looked back up at Ryker. His eyes were glistening as he watched me.
The only thing I’d ever wished for on my birthdays was already in front of me.
True love.
A man who saw me for me, a man who wanted me and was always there for me.
But most importantly, a man whom I couldn’t compare to anyone else, because he was more than anyone else.
And that was all that mattered.
Just him.
Ryker.
One Year Later: Gamer Awards
“And now, here to announce the nominees for the award for Most Impactful Gaming, Odette Reign.” The crowd erupted into cheers as I stood watching from backstage.
I watched as Odette took the stage in a stunning red dress that hugged every one of her curves, stopping right in the middle of her calves, with a slit all the way up to her middle thigh. She looked fucking amazing standing up there.
I blocked out the noise around me as I watched her talk about the award that she was presenting. An award I was notified about, as invitations were sent out just months ago.
Even though I was out and open in the world with who I was, went to events and conventions as myself, it didn’t mean I came on stage for everything. As much as I was myself now, there were still parts to this job that I clammed up about, and being on stage in front of people was one of them.
I’d gotten the invitation and a call about the award. They were giving the award to someone who had used their gaming not for their own game, but to help out in communities. Which was something I had been big on since revealing myself. I was using a lot of my new profits to help local women’s shelters,providing them not just clothes, but care kits as well. I’d been volunteering at the soup kitchens in a few nearby cities as well. I’d always wanted to really put myself out there and do these things, but it was always hard to put my money where my mouth was when it came to my identity.
But not anymore, and the Gamer Awards had seen that. And I wasn’t alone in the new ventures. Others had followed suit, doing the same in their own cities. It felt good to be using our access for something greater.
I looked out to the crowd, Jemma and Beckett sitting up front together. They’d moved in together around the same time I had moved into Odette’s place, and now we were all living next to each other. It didn’t take much convincing from Beckett or me to give up our places and move in with our girls. All I needed was an office and nothing more, but Odette’s house, her environment, and knowing I was important to her. I didn’t want to disturb that. Beckett didn’t want to do that to Jemma either.
We’d go back and forth through the week; dinner being swapped out to whose house we would end up at. It was like we were a huge family, and I loved it.
The lights dimmed around me as the screen showed the nominees to the audience. I smiled because it was almost time. When my contact for the show told me they’d be awarding me the honor, I’d talked with Odette about what I wanted to do, which was to accept the award offstage like I used to.
At least, that’s what I told her.
“It’s almost time.” One of the stagehands patted my shoulder, giving me a smile.
Everyone back here knew that I would be walking out on that stage to accept my award from my woman. The woman who had been there for me through everything over the last year.
My heart thudded as the lights turned back on.
“And the winner is…” Odette slit open the envelope, and a smile spread across her face, even though she already knew I’d won. “Ryker, also known as CovertRetriever.”
She turned around and faced the screen behind her, waiting for it to come to life, thinking I was going to show up. The lights didn’t dim as she waited, but the screen did change for a split second before becoming fuzzy and turning black.
“I’m so sorry,” Odette spoke into the microphone, looking from side to side of the stage, trying to plead with someone to help, since to her, there was a malfunction. “There must be a problem.”
That was my cue.
I took one step, then two, and then I was practically sprinting onto the stage straight for Odette. She turned to me, shock on her face, her eyebrows knit together, and her mouth hanging open.
