America's Geekheart (Bro Code #2)(93)

“So? Having a trust fund won’t save your frogs.”

“I mentioned I love you?”

He smiles.

And it’s not a camera smile, or a goofball smile, or a smolder smile.

It’s a raw, honest, wide, happy smile. “I loved you first,” he announces.

I burst out laughing. “Are you kidding me?”

“Swear to god, when you hit me with that taser, I was like, she’s the one. Those eyes are deadly enough when there’s only two of them, but man, you juiced me, and then you had four, and I was a goner.”

I’m still laughing when he angles in for a kiss.

“I love you, Sarah Dempsey,” he says against my smiling lips. “And I’m going to make you laugh every single day for the rest of my life.”





Thirty-Eight





Sarah



Life is pretty damn awesome.

After a huge family dinner last night with my parents and Cupcake, Charlie, Mackenzie, Beck’s family, and his adopted neighborhood family—I completely understand why they called the band Bro Code when I watch him with all of his adopted brothers, not just the guys who were in the band—I stayed with him again, and now I’m on my way to work with plans to ask for the rest of the week off.

Nobody from the office texted about the media coverage of Saturday night. My video about Persephone giving birth has more views than any other video about the giraffe except for the zoo’s official feeds, and I’m weirdly happy about my new nickname.

America’s Geekheart.

I don’t really care about being famous, and I know somebody will twist this and make it ugly before long, but they can’t take away my self-worth.

They won’t take me away from the people I love.

Not again.

I’m getting a ride from one of Beck’s bodyguards, so I spend the trip texting with Mom, who’s been taking care of Meda and making sure my bees and flowers have water since the dinner Saturday night.

She wants me to quit work and be a full-time science video blogger, because it’s your passion, sweetheart, and you share it so eloquently.

Dad pops in with the occasional text asking if it’s possible for a girl pig and a girl cat to have babies together, because he thinks Cupcake is in heat.

I think he’s trying to see how far he can push me.

Either that, or he hit his head the other night while Persephone was giving birth.

Or possibly he’s practicing for his role, which he has to report back to California for on Friday.

We reach the office early, and I slip in unnoticed around the other early arrivals. I’m sorting my projects to figure out what I need to get done this week and what I can push off, so I know how much time I can take off to go hang out with Beck in Shipwreck, when someone in the cube behind me gasps.

Thirty seconds later, another gasp goes up in the cubicle farm.

Followed a minute later by four in rapid succession.

And then there are footsteps.

Lots. And lots. And lots. Of footsteps.

“Unplug your computer,” my boss orders.

Someone else dives under my desk and does it for me.

I look at the sea of white faces around me. “Did we get a virus?”

“Yeah, it’s called the scourge of humanity,” one of them mutters.

“Your blog is really awesome. I didn’t realize that was you until after…you know. But I’ve been following it for months.”

“Those fuckers shouldn’t—sorry, Gary. Those inbred shitheads who troll people shouldn’t be allowed on the internet.”

My phone buzzes, and Mackenzie’s face lights the screen.

I gesture to it and look at my boss. “May I?”

His frown deepens. “Is it a friend?”

“My best friend.”

“Then yes.”

I swipe to answer. No one leaves my cubicle, and someone else bursts into the building shouting, “Did you see what those asswipes said? And what a total dick. I can’t believe he—”

“Shut up!” someone else yells.

“Hey,” I say to Mackenzie. “Are you at work?”

“Yeah, but Sarah—listen, don’t get on the internet today, okay?”

“Um, that’s not exactly a problem right now.”

“Can you get me in touch with that guy who was helping with your website?”

“Mackenzie?”

“No, that’s me. I mean the guy who kinda looks like Cash Rivers. The one Beck set up to upgrade your servers? That guy.”

“What’s going on?”

“Assholes are going on. Just…stay off the internet. And can I have Beck’s number too? Because…because… We’ll handle this, okay?”

“Handle what?” I eyeball my coworkers. Some won’t meet my eye.

One rubs my back. “We never knew you were so reserved because you’d been exposed to that before, but it all makes sense now. I just can’t believe he’s dumping you like this.”

My entire body freezes.

Just ices over.

Heart and all.

“The internet’s being the internet.” Mackenzie sighs audibly. “Will you please just send me his name and number? And maybe don’t go to work today.”