America's Geekheart (Bro Code #2)(32)

“It’s totally good luck for Sarah to wear a geek shirt,” Mackenzie agrees.

Mom sighs. “At least let me do something with your hair and makeup.”

We compromise on a ponytail and lip gloss—though why a ponytail needs hairspray, I have no idea—and then I distract her with the suggestion that she do Mackenzie’s hair and makeup.

I haven’t told my best friend all the details of what’s coming with Beck, because I signed a contract promising I wouldn’t, but it still makes me feel like a heel for lying to her again. I hope she’s suspicious.

My parents know. Their lawyer did the final negotiations with his lawyer, with input from my parents.

It’s for the best to have Mom and Dad involved.

They’ve been there, done that, and seen about everything there is to see in Hollywood. They were the smokescreen I disappeared behind when I left for Morocco after high school graduation, and even though Mom insists on calling me Serendipity, they helped me legally change my name to escape the shadow of their spotlight.

Beck arrives in a red Tesla Roadster an hour before the game.

“Pansy-ass car,” my dad mutters as he peers through the blinds.

“That is so sexy,” Mackenzie whispers to me. “Can you be friends with him long enough for me to get a ride?”

“Sure.” I’m contractually obligated to stay friends with him for the next two weeks anyway.

“You two are so adorable together,” she adds. “But if he even hints that your worth is directly tied to your uterus again, by all means, ruin his underwear modeling career.”

She pauses, then lowers her voice even more. “I mean by cutting his balls off.”

“Got that part,” I assure her.

“I trained her to rip those balls off with her bare hands,” my dad growls from my recliner.

“Oh my god,” Mackenzie gasps.

“Dad, quit scaring my friends. You can practice your lines tomorrow.”

“There won’t be a tomorrow if we don’t get our asses in the game.”

Mackenzie goes from horrified to resigned in a heartbeat. “He’s practicing for a movie about the Fireballs, isn’t he?” she asks me.

Beck knocks before I have to answer her, and I leap to reach the door first.

My dad pulls one of those moves he learned in a kung fu movie ten years ago, though, and I end up toppling backwards over the armrest of the rocking chair, almost squashing Meda, who’s been camped out on the arm since Cupcake finally passed out cold on the AC vent in the kitchen.

My legs flail, and I fling my arms out to catch myself as I start to roll sideways off the chair, ass in the air.

Dad flings the door open. “Password,” he growls.

“Your daughter is a kindhearted genius who deserves better than a dumbass like me?” Beck guesses.

Mackenzie snickers.

“My, he’s charming,” my mom breathes.

I spin on the floor in time to catch Beck winking at my mother.

She fans herself.

Dad crosses his arms over his chest. “Quit flirting with my wife.”

“Sorry, sir. Natural reaction to beauty.”

I get myself back to my feet just in time for Cupcake to come barreling into the room.

Meda yowls and takes off for the stairs to my bedroom. I dive for the pig before she can follow. “No, Cupcake! No stairs! Mom! Where’s her harness?”

“You can’t stop true love, Serendipity.”

“You can’t make my cat love your pig.” I’m wrestling with a pig on the floor, in my best Geeks do it in Binary T-shirt, trying to save my cat, who loves me most when I have fresh-cooked chicken or when she’s delivering a sacrifice or yesterday when I rescued her from the pig and let her hang out with Mackenzie’s bobbleheads for the afternoon.

“Your cat was kneading my pig’s belly five minutes before you walked in the door,” Mom tells me. “She’s playing you.”

“So…pulled pork for dinner. Good idea or bad idea?” Beck asks.

Mom gasps.

“Bad idea. Got it. Hamburgers good, Sarah? We’ll grab some at the park. Here. Let me get that pig for you.” He lifts Cupcake, who flails, but despite a grunt or two of his own as he tries to finagle the pig, he gets her in a solid hold and she quits squealing. “Aww, look at the sweet piggy. You want your daddy to take you for a walk, don’t you?”

I snag Cupcake’s harness off the coatrack behind the door and slip it on her before Beck loses his grip. Once she’s leashed and on the ground, I hand the cord pointedly to my dad. “Pretend you’re auditioning for the role of a farmer and go distract all the paparazzi.”

“I eat farmers for breakfast.”

“Okay, Bat-Dad. Pretend you’re auditioning for a role as a bodyguard for the pig that will save the world. The fate of humanity rests on your shoulders.”

“This game was more fun before you were old enough to date.” He’s still growling in his tough guy cowboy voice, but there’s a twinkle in his dark eyes when he takes the leash.

Beck slings a long arm around my shoulder, which sends a delicious shiver that I ignore down my spine. “You ready to be good luck for the Fireballs?” he asks.

“Luck hasn’t exactly been on my side lately,” I point out wryly.