Page 12 of Miami Ice

Now a full smirk appears on his lips. “If you’re on BookTok, you should know who I am.”

“What? Why?” I ask.

“I should just duct tape your mouth shut until Georgie agrees to do this. You are about to ruin everything with your ego!” Sofia snaps.

I turn to her, seeking clarification. She sighs. “He’s cast as a book boyfriend for hockey romances all the time,” she explains, as if this is normal.

A wicked grin passes over Beckham’s face. “They like to talk about all the things they want to do to me. Or more like have me do to them.”

“Oh my God, would you please behave?” Sofia groans.

“That doesn’t bother you?” I ask Beckham curiously.

He shrugs. “I don’t mind being someone’s erotic fantasy.”

I AM NOT READY, NOT READY, NOT READY, I CAN NEVER BE READY FOR HIM.

“Don’t worry, if they knew therealyou, you would no longer have millions of videos dedicated to you on BookTok,” Sofia says.

Beckham chuckles at that. Ooh. It’s a throaty sound and rather sexy.

NO NOT SEXY. This is business. There’s no room for sexy in business.

“Ignore him. What is your last name?” Sofia asks.

“Goodwin. Georgie Goodwin.”

“Georgie, meet Beckham Bailey,” she says, acting as if we hadn’t had this entirely weird conversation at all.

He lifts a brow. “Ms. Goodwin.”

“Mr. Bailey,” I counter, smiling sweetly at him.

His brows knit together. “Why are you smiling?”

Beckham’s response takes me aback. “Why wouldn’t I? We’re starting a business meeting, and I’m pleased to meet you.”

“No. You started our business meeting by telling me you wanted to throw up.”

“See? I told you he can be a grump!” Sofia interjects.

Beckham’s head snaps toward her. “How is that being a grump? I merely stated a fact.”

“You get grumpy all the time,” Sofia counters. “You’ve been a grump about finding a house here in Miami. You’re a grump because your shitty decisions have put you in this situation where you have to work to project a new image. And don’t get me started about how you’re worse than the freaking Grinch about Christmas.”

“How can you be a grinch about Christmas?” I ask. “It’s the most magical time of the year!”

“Yes. The most magical time of year for commercialization,” he declares, screwing up his face.

“No, no, it’s more than that,” I insist, my Christmas-loving heart rising to the challenge to make Beckham understand this. “It’s about warmth and coziness and love. The magic of Christmas lights and sprinkles on iced cookies. It’s the caress of the wafting scent of sugar in the air and the way the tree looks when you lie underneath it and look up at the branches. It’s hearing Mariah Carey defrosted for the start of the season. It’s beautiful!”

Beckham stares at me without saying anything for what seems like an eternity. Finally, he speaks, a bewildered expression passing over his face. “Whoareyou?” he whispers, as if I’m a lunatic and he needs to speak carefully before I become completely unhinged.

“I told you!” Sofia says, clapping her hands in triumph. “She’s like a Christmas cupcake!”

Cupcake?

“Right,” Beckham says. He shifts his attention back to me. “I take it the gold is your foil wrapper, right, Cupcake?”

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