"Em, be a dear and put the kettle on, won't you?"

Emerson set the grocery bag on the kitchen table. "Sure, Gram."

Sitting at the other side of the table, her grandma adjusted her gla.s.ses then got back to work on her crossword puzzles. Keeps my mind sharp, she said every time Em visited. At eighty-two, she was sharp and spry. Not for the first time, Em hoped she'd inherited a good portion of her grandmother's genes.

After putting the teapot on the stove, she unpacked the few groceries she'd brought. So far, she'd inherited more from the grandma she barely knew as a child than from her own parents. Her dad was smart when it came to science. He was a doctor, but he was narrow-minded. He didn't seem to approve of Emerson, her career, the way she looked, the music she liked...anything. But at least he appreciated her intelligence. Though he didn't always show it, she knew he was proud of her.

Her mother, on the other hand, didn't even try to understand her. When it was clear Emerson would never be Miss Blushing Blueberry, like she'd been, Maura had given up and started on her younger sister. At the time, it'd been a relief to be left alone, but it always made her wonder if her mother had ever really loved her, or ever would.

Her grandma, having been born in a different generation, was more open-minded than both Emerson's parents. Apparently the brains got pa.s.sed down in the family, not social opinion.

"How's your father these days?" she asked, still looking down at the puzzle.

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him in a while." She pulled out her grandma's favorite cookies and held up the box. "These are awesome by the way. You got me hooked and now my mother will never forgive me for ruining my feminine waistline." Chuckling, she set the box on the table.

"Bah. Don't worry about that priss. You're fine the way you are." With a dismissive wave of her hand she added, "You waistline isn't feminine anyway. You're more straight up and down."

"I know. I'm built like a dude." She looked down at her Minecraft t-shirt and leggings, taking in the nearly invisible slopes of her chest. Forget ample mounds. She had speed b.u.mps. "No. Like a boy."

Her grandma shrugged. "t.i.ts aren't everything."

"Gram!"

She chuckled.

"I'll just have to win someone over with my dazzling smile and charming personality." She rolled her eyes. Fat chance.

"Not everyone is meant to be married, dear."

Emerson froze in place. Great. She was destined to be an old spinster. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Gram.

Maybe instead of being the crazy cat lady, she'd be the crazy numbers lady. She could almost see it now. Like one of the doc.u.mentaries about criminal minds, Emerson would be sitting in her living room, papers filled with numbers would cover the floor around her while she'd mumble incoherently to herself.

She swallowed hard. Sometimes she felt like she was going down that path already.

Balance. All she needed was someone to balance her. But the guys she had stuff in common with were crazy numbers people too. And she couldn't be with someone whose intellect didn't match her own. Being the smart one in the relationship was fine but she didn't want dead weight to support. She could barely support herself.

Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten that day. Maybe what she needed was a keeper.

"Aha!" Her grandma smiled, looking down at her book. "Finished! That one was tricky but they can't stump me. In twenty two years, I've never been stumped."

Em grinned then opened the box of cookies. Why these weren't flying off the shelf, she couldn't understand. Shortbread on the bottom and milk chocolate on the top, they were addictive.

"How come you're so cool and Dad is..." She shrugged. "Not?"

Her grandma flipped the page in her book to a new puzzle but spared a moment to look at Em. "I wasn't always this way. The saying 'wisdom comes with age' is true. But it's not because we get smarter. It's because we're too old to give a s.h.i.t what anyone thinks anymore."

She laughed. "How come I'm that way already?"

"You were born wise."

"No. Just weird."

"Which makes you wise." Her grandma leaned forward and looked her in the eye. "Listen to me, Emerson True. The parts of you that you think are weird or different are some of the most coveted traits in the world. And I don't mean that genius brain. I mean independent thought. If people treat you differently because of it, they're jealous. Not everyone can walk around confident in who they are."

Jealous? She doubted anyone would be jealous of her. Except maybe a few guys in her cla.s.s when she'd cracked that cryptology challenge first.

"Besides, most people are more alike than they think. We all desire to be understood and accepted. Some people just need to make other people feel inferior in order to feel okay about themselves. It doesn't make you less okay. It just makes them idiots."

She thought for a moment. Had she ever felt understood and accepted? Yes. At MIT. Before that, she'd felt like a freak. She'd gotten her gla.s.ses in grade school and been labeled a book nerd straight away, even though she didn't have a thing for books unless they were about math. Why did people think intelligence went with poor vision?

MIT was loaded with freaks like her girls and guys with their noses buried in books. Or reprogramming gadgets to do things they weren't meant to do. People who forgot to change their clothes before bed, walked to cla.s.s like sleep-deprived zombies, spoke in words longer than four letters. It was her favorite place in the world, which was why she didn't want to stray too far.

Her grandma smirked. "So no news on the boyfriend front after that boy Jonah?"

"No." That boy had left her for a job at NASA. He'd barely said goodbye before he was packing to leave. When she'd asked about where they stood, he said someone like him wasn't cut out for a long-distance relationship. They hadn't spoken since. That'd been her only serious relationship. Before that, she'd tried a few flings but nothing went far. Once a guy became too time-consuming, she broke things off. The only reason it'd been a little different with Jonah was because she'd craved human contact by that point. A computer only went so far in terms of company.

Once in a while, her heart decided to remind her it existed.

"You need to stop dating smart guys and pick up some dumb jock instead."

"Gram!"

"A simple, kind man. Like your grandfather."

He died when Em was in middle school. She'd only met him a handful of times. "I don't remember him."

She smiled, the lines in her face showing she'd been smiling for many years. That her hair was still its blondish color instead of all gray like other women her age spoke of a lifetime of relatively stress-free enjoyment. "He'd have liked you."

Em wished her dad valued his parents more. Even if they didn't live close by, they could've at least visited around holidays more than once every few years. If she'd had the chance to get to know her grandma earlier, she probably wouldn't have spent most of her childhood wondering if she'd been adopted.

"Are there any other boys you're interested in?" Narrowing her eyes, she added, "Or girls?"

"I'm not a lesbian, Gram."

"Well, you never know."

Jess had made the same a.s.sumption. Did she look like one? What did a lesbian look like anyway? She never thought much about her wardrobe, despite Jess bringing her attention to it constantly with tips about dressing for her body, whatever that meant. Emerson wore what she liked while making sure she wasn't too out of style. Maybe her short, uneven bob was butch? Or the fact that she only wore studs in her ears and a hoop in her nose, and she didn't wear make-up or girly stuff either.

c.r.a.p. Maybe she was putting off lesbian vibes.

It wasn't that she had a problem with being a lesbian, she just wasn't attracted to girls. In fact, she was barely attracted to boys. She was attracted to numbers. Chuckling to herself, she wondered if there was a pathology for that.

There were times not many but they were there when something struck her as particularly hot. It usually had to do with att.i.tude, not appearance. Strength, confidence. A certain look or walk.

She gave her head a shake and focused back on the present. No need to go there. Not with her grandma in the room. After placing a teabag in the mug, she handed it to her grandmother.

"Thank you, dear. So what's your newest project?"

"I'm looking for "

"Prime numbers," she said, annoyed. "Yes, I know. But what are you doing for money?"

Levi's face popped into her mind. His wide smile, dusty blond hair that curled a bit on the top. That hadn't been the first thing she'd noticed though. It'd been his biceps under the fitted t-shirt. Why did she have a thing for muscles? It wasn't as if she valued sports and she'd never even set foot in a gym. Jocks and gym rats held no interest for her. Too bad her libido didn't feel the same way. Just the peek at Levi's arms got her going in ways Jonah never could. She pictured them pinning her down on the bed as he thrust into her, his strength controlling her movement, his voice commanding her when to come.

Yeah. Maybe there was some secret l.u.s.t deep down inside she hadn't explored yet. But that didn't mean she wanted to now. Or ever.

She and Jonah made a predictable pair, but just because she looked like a nerd didn't mean she was attracted to that in someone else. Levi had swagger. The walk, the talk, the att.i.tude. His smile was charming, yes, but his eyes were wicked. And his low-rise jeans, so worn in they hugged his a.s.s perfectly, had made her almost drool on her keyboard. Not that she'd looked. On purpose.

Whoa. Now she was getting ahead of herself. Why was she even thinking of him that way? He was a client. Not only that but he was already involved with someone. Someone. Jury was still out on who that person was.

"I've got some projects on the side," she said then closed up the cookie box. "Speaking of which, I should probably get going."

She had a catfish to find.

Chapter 5.

Levi stared at the computer screen. His gut twisted as he read through the conversation for the second time. Something wasn't right.

Hope: I'm sorry, sweetheart. Tonight just isn't good.

Levi: Again?

Hope: You know it's hard for me to video chat. But we will soon. I promise.

Levi: You always promise. I don't even know why I bother asking anymore.

Hope: I'm sorry Levi: Do you take this seriously? Or is this a joke to you? Am I not important?

Hope: What? Of course you are! This has nothing to do with you.

Levi: I'm beginning to doubt that.

Hope: Please don't be mad. You know you mean the world to me.

Nice words. It was just nice words meant to lure him into complacency. "Who are you?" he whispered.

He wanted to scream it. He wanted to reach into the computer and grab a hold of her, first to shake her then he'd kiss the h.e.l.l out of her. Frustration rose and he grinded his teeth together. He would put every ounce of angst he'd felt in the last four months into that kiss. And if he had his way, he'd f.u.c.k her against the wall too.

In his head, he'd imagined it many times. Undressing her, taking his time perusing her body. He realized that he'd never appreciated just looking at his past girlfriends. But with Hope, he'd be happy to just sit there and watch her. He'd take her slow first, enjoying every moan, every sound that left her lips. Then he'd let loose and take out his frustration on her for all the times she'd cancelled video chat. He'd make her come so hard, she'd never forget to video chat again.

But she was more than just an object of l.u.s.t. Yes, he wanted to possess her, but he wanted to dote on her too. He wanted to play the song he wrote about her and watch her smile light up her face. He desperately wanted to hear her laugh. In his head, her laugh was amazing, her voice feminine but not too girly.

"Like little bells and fairy giggles," he muttered then pushed back in his seat with a sigh.

f.u.c.k Me. I'm lost.

Maybe he should write another song and call it f.u.c.k me, I'm Lost. He chuckled at himself. Or Fairy Giggles.

The chat alert dinged and he checked his messages.

Hope: I'm looking at dates to come to Boston.

He shot up in his chair. Was she serious? She'd talked about coming here but never anything as concrete as deciding on a date. He typed back.

Levi: When?

Hope: Memorial Day weekend?

That was two months from now. It was farther away than he wanted but it was better than nothing.

Levi: Really? You're not messing with me, are you?

Hope: As long as nothing comes up between now and then.

Why did that sound conditional instead of enthusiastic? G.o.d, this girl really knew how to keep him on edge. If he wasn't so addicted to her, he'd do the smart thing and demand she meet him this weekend or end the relationship.

Hope: You mean so much to me, Levi. You're in my thoughts all the time. Every little thing makes me think of you. Our song was on the radio yesterday and I almost broke down and cried. I want to see you so bad.

Yes! It was about d.a.m.n time. Months ago would've been about d.a.m.n time. So why was it taking so long? If he knew where she lived, he'd hop in the car and drive there tonight.

Levi: You know I've been waiting to see you. It's not me that's taking so long.

Hope: I know. And someday you'll understand.

Understand? Was she catfishing him? He felt so torn about this hacking stuff. On the one hand, he deserved to know. The more he thought about it, the more the red flags popped up. But trust went with love. And by spying on her, he was admitting he didn't trust her. But how could he trust her when she wouldn't video chat, seemed so private even after almost a year, and made these cryptic comments all the time?

Levi: Understand what?

He held his breath, eyes glued to the screen. Please don't say you're a dude. Please don't say you're eighty. A long moment later, a message finally came up.

Hope: You'll understand why it's taking so long. After we meet, you can decide if you still want me.

If? Why was she even thinking he'd dump her? He squeezed his eyes shut. Why didn't he just ask her straight up? It wasn't like him not to be forward. This girl got him so twisted up inside. He was pretty sure this wasn't healthy, but he couldn't stop. He was too obsessed to end it.

Levi: You're not a dude, are you?

Hope: Lmao! No!

He exhaled in relief though it didn't ease his anxiety that much. Something still wasn't right.