Page 49 of Miami Ice

“Hard,” I say. “I missed him. I mean, Ella and I got to see him on weekends and summers and holidays, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him every day. Then Mom was stressed about the split and getting the money she needed to pay for a lawyer to fight forwhat was rightfully hers, and it was a very bitter, angry divorce. It wasn’t good for anyone.”

“Now I see it,” Beckham says softly. “You want the stability you never had as a child. You don’t want to be involved with anyone if there’s a chance it can all be taken away. That’s why you don’t like casual. You want something deeper as reassurance.”

“Yes. It’s stupid, really,” I say quickly. “Because all relationships can end, serious or not.”

“It’snotstupid, Georgie. There’s nothing wrong with preferring a serious relationship over dating or hooking up. None of those are wrong answers. It’s a matter of picking what’s right for you, for where you are in your life. We both did that based on what we needed. Or thought we needed.”

My pulse quickens as his last sentence rolls through my brain.

Or thought we needed.

Is Beckham’s idea of what he needs changing? I know he’s doing things to clean up his image, but could he be re-evaluating how he wants to move forward after our arrangement is over?

And am I the reason why?

I quickly take another bite of my shake. I can’t let my heart think this.

Because that involves another thought. Do I want him to?

“I have another question,” Beckham says.

I’m relieved to have the distraction. “Go on.”

“Explain to me this jar business. I know you paint and sell them—Sofia showed me the ones she bought—but how did this become a thing for you?”

Okay. This is a much safer question and I’m grateful for it.

“I’ve always been a crafter,” I say. “From the time I was little, my favorite part of school was when we got to do arts and crafts. I have always found joy in sitting down to do something creative,you know? Probably the same joy you feel when you take to the ice to play hockey.”

He nods. I continue. “I always knew I was going to major in art, but I wasn’t clear about my career path until I stumbled onto painted Mason jars. I thought they were cool, and then I began formulating ways I could do them and make them different. Through trial and error, I figured out a creative way to paint them that gave them a rustic farmhouse look. I didn’t see anything like it on the market, so I developed a plan to work hard, save all my money, and allow myself to launch my business for a year.”

I stop talking, as this next part is hard to admit and I’m feeling vulnerable all over again.

“My year is nearly up, and I haven’t made anything close to a livable wage,” I admit. “I was planning to start looking for a job after I wrapped up my last Christmas show in December.”

A look of recognition lights in Beckham’s eyes. “Then you met Sofia.”

I nod. “Yes. Dating you will allow me to keep going.”

“How will you use the money?”

“I want to rent a dedicated studio space where I can go and do my art. Right now, I work out of my mom’s house, which isn’t ideal for multiple reasons.”

“No, I imagine not.”

“So a professional space is one thing. Then I’d have some money to take some courses on how to run some targeted ads on Connectivity and pay for them, that kind of thing. Better shows, too. As well as paying for rent and bills.”

“This arrangement really helps you, doesn’t it?”

“I won’t lie. It’s like divine intervention.”

“I can say the same. You’re going to put a lot of minds at ease within the Manatees organization. Remember, we’re hard launching at Thanksgiving. Are you ready for it?”

I smile at him. “Now you’re dropping Swiftie songs.”

“What?”

“‘… Ready For It?’”

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