Page 148 of Miami Ice

Ella snorts. “What are you talking about? Chloe would be chiming in with her Swiftie songs!”

I look up at my twin. “Fair point.”

“I don’t blame you for daydreaming about Becks,” Emilee says. “He’s freaking hot. Like when he was mad he was in the penalty box the other night? And he ripped off his helmet and shook out his hair? Hot.”

I remember my reaction the first time I saw Beckham do that.

Hot indeed.

“Georgie. When you go to the holiday skate next week, you should scope out eligible hockey players for Emilee,” Ella suggests.

“Oh no, I don’t want a hockey player,” she says. “I mean, no offense, Georgie, but a lot of them have thick legs and poppin’ butts. I like a leaner frame.”

“Poppin’ butts?” I ask, giggling. “What does that even mean?”

“Yeah, you know, too rounded. Popped out from all that skating,” Emilee says. “I’m not into that.”

“Are you into a flat ass?” Ella cries, looking appalled.

“I like a nice, muscular ass, but not poppin’ out of pants,” Emilee clarifies.

I lose it. I’m giggling, Ella is giggling, and finally Emilee begins to laugh, too.

Our server approaches the table, grinning at us. “Ladies, I see we are off to a good start this Friday night. I’m Eduardo, and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”

“Hi. I’m Ella, this is my twin Georgie, and this is Emilee, and we’ll be your customers tonight. We are waiting for one more.”

“Excellent. Would you like to order some cocktails or a glass of wine in the meantime?” he asks.

“I’d like a mojito mocktail,” I say, as I have to drive my minivan over to Beckham’s place later tonight.

Eduardo nods and turns to Ella. “And for you?”

“A Cuba Libre please,” she says, referring to the rum, Coke, and lime drink.

“And for you?” Eduardo says, glancing at Emilee.

“A mojito. With the booze,” she says cheerfully.

He smiles back at her. “You got it.”

After he steps away, I look at Emilee. “You are missing out on hockey butt. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s deformed,” she insists.

“So what athlete has the perfect body for you? By the way, you should rip up my best-friend card. I should know this, and I don’t,” Ella confesses.

“I like Formula 1 drivers,” Emilee says.

Ella and I both exchange a surprised glance. Emilee has never ever mentioned Formula 1 before.

“It’s a new interest of mine. I got sucked in after bingeingDrive to Surviveon Netflix,” she explains. “There’s something sexy about the lithe, lean bodies they have.”

“Too lean,” Ella says, her tone dismissive.

“They’re lean but muscular,” Emilee retorts. “And freaking hot.”

“Show me one,” I say.

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