Page 120 of Miami Ice

I chuckle at that.

“Then you started talking about her. That’s when I knew something was going on with you. Because younevertalked about any girl before.”

Why does this revelation make me feel giddy inside?

Like a sickening sweet kind of giddy that I wouldn’t even confess to Ella.

Beckham snorts. “Go on, take your victory lap. You were right. Luckily for me, Georgie liked me back.”

“You sound like you’re in high school,” Sofia gloats. “Liked you back. That’s hilarious.”

“So High School” suddenly starts looping in my head.

Yes. It is.

And it’s perfect.

“Let me take some pictures for you two to have. I still expect you to post them, you know,” Sofia says. Then she laughs. “We didn’t even get to the fake dating. This is hilarious.”

“We had negotiations in fake dating,” I supply helpfully.

Beckham snorts. “BookTok would be so disappointed with the ratio of fake dating in our story.”

I can’t help it. I laugh, and he does, too, as he envelopes me in his arms. One of his hands slides to the back of my head, cradling it to him, and the gesture completely melts me inside.

I love this space I find myself in at the moment. I love the way he’s holding me so protectively. I love that I can feel the heat from his body and smell the cologne that lingers on his skin. And when I feel his lips sweetly brush the top of my head?

Bliss.

“If you can tear yourself away from each other, I’d like a traditional pose of you two in front of my decorative wreath. Which you will need to dispose of after we leave for Atlanta tomorrow.”

“No. I expect this house to be move-in ready tomorrow,” Beckham says, flashing his sister a teasing smile as we move in front of a large autumnal wreath hung on the door. “That means this home should be rid of all your Thanksgiving crap.”

“It will be clean. You’ll just need to dump the wreath,” she says. “Then Georgie will have a clean slate so she can spruce up this place for Christmas.”

“Oh! Yes!” I say excitedly, just as she snaps a picture. I turn to Beckham. “I need to go to Home Joy tomorrow. I always go the day after Thanksgiving. Like get there before it opens at five. I’ve been distracted by you the past few days, so I wasn’t thinking about it, but I’ll set my alarm and go over there first thing while you’re still sleeping.”

“Wait. You’re going to get up beforefiveto go toHome Joy?” The scowl is back on his face, and I can’t help but put my fingertips over his turned-down lips and push them upward into a smile.

“Yes, Grumpy. But I know you can’t go this time. You have to be ready for morning skate at the arena. So I’ll get up and go while you’re still sleeping.”

“What could they possibly have that you need? You already got the maniacal nutcracker.”

“Maybe I want another one in a different color,” I tease. “Or one just for your house!”

The scowl deepens further, and I smile at him.

“Beckham, we do need to have Christmas decor here, it won’t feel right without it,” I insist.

He sighs heavily. Then to my surprise, he retrieves his wallet, whips out a credit card, and extends it to me. “Do what you will.”

I stare at the card in shock, then I put out my hand in a stop motion. “No, no, I don’t want your card.”

“I know you don’t, but I want you to have it. Go crazy at Home Joy. I want to bedazzledwhen I get home tomorrow from practice. I’m checking out of the hotel before I head to the arena. I’ll get Minnie settled here and then go to practice, and you should be back here by the time I get home.”

I still don’t take it.

“Georgie. Don’t make me grumpy. It will make me happy thinking of you going to town in there.”

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