Page 56 of The Revenge Game
Something pulses inside me at the reflective look on his face. There’s just something about Drew’s company that makes me feel different compared to everyone else. It’s almost like I can breathe fully without measuring each inhale.
That realization spurs me to ask him something that’s been knocking around in my head over the last few days.
“Speaking of things that need rebuilding,” I say, my heart rate increasing. “I got a message from my boss at the animal shelter I volunteer at.”
Drew comes to a stop so he can look at me. “You volunteer at an animal shelter?”
“Yeah. It’s called Second Chances. It’s where I got Tabitha and Cassie.” I shift my weight, suddenly finding the marble floor fascinating. “They run this auction every year—it’s their biggest fundraiser—but Maria’s struggling to find an online bidding system that won’t eat up all their funds in fees.”
Drew’s eyebrows lift slightly. “What kind of system does she need?”
“Nothing too fancy. Just something where people can bid on items before and during the auction. I told her I might know someone who’s good with tech stuff.” I try to keep my voice casual, even though my heart is racing like I’m back in high school asking someone to prom. “Any chance you could help me with it?”
Drew’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “I think I can squeeze helping you set up the auction into my packed schedule of stopping printers from taking over the world,” he says.
Relief and something warmer flood through me. “Thanks. Maybe we could grab coffee sometime this week and go over the requirements?”
“Yeah, that would work.” Drew nods, and a giddiness spreads through me at the thought of spending more time with him.
I need to move before I do something stupid, like touch him.
We make our way up the spiral staircase toward the Whispering Gallery. The worn stairs remind me how many people have come up these steps before us.
When we reach the gallery, we find ourselves alone in this section.
According to the app, the space gets its name from a quirk of acoustics where whispers against the wall can be heard clearly on the opposite side of the dome.
“It’s the ultimate eavesdropping architecture,” Drew says when I tell him this fact, running his hand along the curved wall. “Like a seventeenth-century party line.”
I watch his face as he takes in the view of the cathedral floor far below, sunlight from the high windows catching on his glasses. Being up here feels like being in a different world, suspended between earth and sky.
“The American version would probably have cup holders,” I say, and Drew’s resulting laugh echoes in the dome.
“And a drive-thru option.”
“Fast-track salvation, guaranteed or your money back.”
We’re both grinning, and there’s this moment where our eyes meet.
I hold my breath.
“You know what’s weird?” Drew says, breaking eye contact to look out over the railing. “How different churches feel here versus back home. These actually feel…historic.”
“Yeah, every town I lived in growing up had churches that were basically the same design, like they were following some cookie-cutter blueprint.”
Drew turns to look at me. “Did you move around a lot when you were a kid?”
Something about his curious expression and the peaceful space we’re in makes it easy to answer.
“Yeah, we moved lots. My mom was a single mom, always chasing something better. A better job, a better apartment, a better life.” I grasp the ornate handrail, staring down at the arches below.
“She had this thing about fresh starts. Every new town was going to be the place where everything finally clicked into place. Until it wasn’t, and we’d pack up again.”
“That sounds hard, always being the new kid,” Drew says softly.
“It was, sometimes.” I swallow. “But I learned to adapt. To be whatever version of myself would let me survive until the next move.” I trace my hand along the smooth metal of the railing.
Drew blinks at me.
