America's Geekheart (Bro Code #2)(56)

Judson growls.

Sunny sighs.

And even though today’s Wednesday—I think?—I can see every Sunday morning for the rest of my life. Right here. Hosting breakfast with the families. Bickering with my best friends. Killing pigs with baby poop.

Sneaking touches of Sarah.

It’s been years since I gave up the dream of having a family of my own—since one too many opportunistic people took that slice of my soul that still believed fame wouldn’t ruin my shot at finding that someone who could still see me—but all this?

This is nice.

It’s giving me ideas again.

Ideas about a pretty friend who needs a helping hand to put some of her past behind her.

And also some really hot fantasies of her in my shower. And in my kitchen. And on my table. Covered in honey and cinnamon and whipped cream.

Maybe that’s why it was her. She needs help moving on from her past.

Maybe I do too.

“At least promise you’ll keep your underwear on,” Mom says on a sigh.

“I promise, he’ll keep his underwear on,” Charlie assures her. “Because there are not enough hours in the day for the kind of overtime that video would take to recover from.”

“It’s for Sarah’s blog, Mom.”

“Oh! The science and bee blog. You have fantastic content. Beck, you should talk to Hank about having Sarah’s website optimized and her server upgraded though. The load times are a little slow with as much traffic as she’s getting.”

“Already on it, Mom.”

“Wait, what?” Sarah says. “Hank who? Yesterday’s Hank?”

“He’s a snickerdoodling genius,” Levi tells her.

“SNICKERDOODLE PENIS!” James hollers.

“I’m going to snickerdoodling kill you,” Tripp mutters to his brother.

And then the weirdest thing happens.

Sarah’s eyes go shiny and she ducks her head and pulls on my arm. Hard. “Can we please just go do this?” she mutters.

My stomach growls, but I ignore it. I know how to puppy-dog-eye my way to a whole honey puff pancake for myself later. But even if I didn’t, I’d still be trailing Sarah to the stairs.

“Hey,” I say as I descend behind her. “What’s wrong?”

She stops on the landing and glances up, but we’re alone.

“You have a really awesome family,” she says, clearly trying to keep in whatever’s bugging her.

“Did one of them say something? I’ll punch him for you. Just tell me which one.”

She shakes her head. “No. That’s exactly it. They’re so…nice. And you all know each other so well, and it’s all fun. All the time. Even though half of you are stalked by crazy photographers and gossips who want to say things bad about you, when you’re all together, you’re just…family.”

I’m missing something. “You have cousins you miss?”

“No. I have me, Mom, and Dad. That’s it. Just us. And I’ve been freaking hiding from Hollywood for over a decade, away from all cameras and gossips and everything that defines their life, and has since before I was born, where you—you live it every day, but you’re still happy. And all of them—and you know them well enough to let them into your place all hours of the day, and they don’t think twice about dropping by, and you’re family. A big, dysfunctional, hilarious, got-your-back, perfect family.”

I don’t quite get exactly why she’s on the verge of tears, but then, maybe I do.

Because that look on her face is exactly how I felt in those few hours when we thought we might lose Ellie. The way I felt when I got the call that Tripp had lost Jessie, and watching him go through all the arrangements once she was gone.

Like I’d finally seen how good I had it with the people I loved and who loved me, and in an instant, it could disappear.

“You’ve never been around big families?”

She shakes her head.

“You can have some of mine. I’ll share.”

That reluctant laugh bubbles out of her. “You are such a nut.”

“Thank you.”

“Seriously, how? How do you stay normal?”

I brush a lock of her hair back from her face, and fuck, it’s so soft. I’m getting on the internet as soon as we’re done with this video and googling double orgasm how-to. Swear to god, I am, even though I’m pretty sure I could manage on my own, because there are so many things I’d like to do to her and with her if she’d let me.

“Tell you a secret?” I murmur.

“I’m suddenly terrified,” she replies with a smile that doesn’t quite light those big brown eyes.

“I’m not actually normal.”

“I don’t think that’s a secret.”

“Yeah, but most people think I’m not normal because I’m fabulous. Truth is, I’m a big dork.”

“Again, I don’t think that’s a secret.”

“You wouldn’t have said that a week ago.”

Her lips part, but she sucks them back into her mouth with a frown.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “The trick is finding the people who can look past the fabulousness to the guy under all the fame. And I had them built in. Those guys? We grew up playing ball and sneaking off to movies and fighting over whose turn it was on the PlayStation. We didn’t call ourselves Bro Code because it was trendy. We did it because that’s how we all grew up. All of us from the neighborhood. We’re all brothers. And if you ask me my best friend in the entire universe, hands down, every time, I’m gonna tell you it’s Wyatt. He’s a military dude now. Makes crap pay and has to send half of it to an ex-wife. Did the most awkward interview I’ve ever seen for a local TV station a few months ago. He’s not built for this life. But he’s the first to call me out when my head’s getting too big, and the first to push my buttons, and the first to show up with a shovel when we need to bury a body. He’s as normal as they come. He’s one of my brothers. And he doesn’t give two shits what’s in my bank account, because he knew me back when I tried to ask a girl to prom by spelling out her name in toilet paper on her front lawn during a rainstorm.”