Page 113 of The Revenge Game
Drew stares at the photo for so long that I think he’s going to burn holes in it.
I can’t help staring at it too, my heart breaking at the thought of how that kid had no idea that in just a few years, he’d learn to hide his smile, to measure every gesture against someone else’s definition of manhood. How that kid would soon learn to translate every ‘be a man’ into ‘be less you,’ until hiding became as natural as breathing and twice as necessary.
How he’d spend so long trying to become someone else that he’d almost forget who he actually was.
“That was my flamingo one.” I point at it. “I used to shake it before bed and pretend the pink glitter was magical sand that could grant wishes.” I lean back, sinking into the cushions. “I knew these were going to be hard to look through, but I didn’t think they would be this hard.”
I take a shuddering breath, drawing a hand across my face. “I wish… I wish I could go back in time and tell the young version of me that it will all turn out okay.”
Drew continues to stare at the photo.
“Yeah, I wish I could do that for myself too,” he says softly, and I’m reminded of what high school was like for him, how he was bullied for just being him.
His expression stirs something in the back of my mind, but I’m too busy to examine it now.
Right now, I want to wipe that look off Drew’s face, just like I want to wipe my memory clear of everything.
Because I’m no longer a scared kid trying to squeeze myself into someone else’s definition of normal.
I’m a grown man, and I’m sitting next to the best person I’ve ever met. He knows exactly who I am, and he likes me back. My life is good now.
I kiss him.
Drew hesitates for a second before he kisses me back carefully like he’s reading Braille with his lips and finding all my unspoken words. His hands cup my face with the same reverence I held for those precious globes, and something inside me shifts back into place.
When I draw back, I rest my head on his forehead for a few seconds, letting the warmth of his skin ground me in the present.
It’s important to remind myself that the ten-year-old kid with his precious collection is finally smiling again.
And it’s all because of Drew.
What’s actually happening between Drew and me swirls in my head over the next few days. It’s still on my mind as we make our way into the DTL Enterprises Christmas party together.
The party is being held in a converted Victorian warehouse that can’t quite decide if it’s trying to be industrial chic or Santa’s workshop gone rogue. Exposed brick walls clash with tinsel garlands while fairy lights wage war with the original iron fixtures for atmospheric dominance.
I discreetly check my smartwatch as we enter, grateful for the subtle vibration patterns from the Recall+ app helping menavigate the sea of unfamiliar-familiar faces. Everyone looks different in their party clothes, but at least Roger’s reindeer sweater makes him easy to spot by the makeshift bar, the LED antlers acting like a beacon.
“I see Roger’s gone full ugly Christmas sweater,” Drew comments.
“That’s actually tame compared to last year,” I tell him. “He wore one that played ‘Jingle Bells’ every time someone bumped into him.”
Drew laughs as Dave materializes next to us, tinsel wrapped around his neck like a sparkly python. “Justin! Finally. I need backup. Pete’s trying to convince everyone thatDie Hardis a Christmas movie.”
Drew gives me a small smile. “I’ll leave y’all to that cultural crisis. I should probably go find Xander and Adam.”
I watch him weave through the crowd toward the IT corner, and I’m tempted to follow.
I want to spend the party with Drew by my side, joking with him, getting the full benefit of his sardonic observations and lightning-quick comebacks.
I don’t understand why Drew has been so insistent we’re just friends with benefits. We get along so well and have so much fun together. Things are scorching hot in the bedroom, and our affection extends outside the bedroom with casual touches, hugs, and kissing.
Lots of kissing.
It’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a relationship.
How do I raise the topic with him? How can I ask if he’s noticed that the ‘friends with benefits’ label is starting to feel like something we’ve outgrown?
Surely, the way he reaches for me in his sleep, the way he’s become my cats’ favorite human, the way he unconsciouslyadjusts my tie every morning before we leave for work, means something?
