Page 31 of Miami Ice

I might not be ready, but it’s time to see Beckham.

I still can’t quell the feeling in my stomach, which has only grown more fluttery as my Uber gets closer to the arena. I’m buzzing with an excitement I’ve never felt before. My stomach is upside down, and I find my pulse quickening as soon as the arena is in my sights.

After I’m dropped off, I make my way to the Platinum entrance at the arena. Sofia said that’s for priority ticket holders, and I should enter there. The whole time I’m walking, my mind is racing. I know some of my excitement could be due to the fact that I’m going to my first-ever hockey game, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.

I don’t care about sports. I never have, and I have no clue what the top teams are in anything. In fact, I only know of certain athletes by their association with celebrity girlfriends. Like that Canadian soccer star who is dating Princess Isabella.

So if you take that out of the reason for my feelings, the only thing left is Beckham.

I mull this thought further as I put my bag through the security line. I liked the man I talked to on the beach last night. I was surprised he was vulnerable with a complete stranger. Perhaps that’s what made it easier. I wasn’t trying to hook up with him. I didn’t know him or his history. I wasn’t after him for being a hockey star or a multimillionaire.

We just talked.

“Thank you,” the arena employee says, interrupting my thoughts as she pushes my tote toward me. “Have a good evening.”

“Thank you,” I say.

Okay, I’m thinking way too much about Beckham Bailey.

My interest needs to beprofessional. Not musing about how vulnerable he is underneath that playboy exterior. I understand how Beckham ended up following this path, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to undergo a real, long-term change.

I need to be mindful of that.

And remind myself that my association with him is not only temporary, but complete theater.

Not reality.

I decide to switch tracks on my Swiftie playlist. New song? “I Knew You Were Trouble.”

I need to play this as mental background music for whenever I’m with him.

I focus on the educational lyrics in that song and enter the concourse. Sofia said she and Aaron would meet me right outside the Brisket & Brews concession stand, which would be to my left after I walk in. People are already streaming through the arena, wearing Manatees jerseys with the names of their favorite players on the back.

Hmm. I wonder if they have Beckham’s jersey in the team shop yet. Suddenly I hope to see this arena filled with them in a few weeks.

And if he plays well on the ice—along with keeping out of trouble and rededicating himself to the game—I see no reason why that can’t happen.

I spot Sofia and Aaron, each holding a twin in their arms. Beckham told me their names last night: Stella and Lucy. I haven’t observed them enough to tell them apart—that will take study because they’re identical—but right now they look adorable in Miami Manatee jerseys.

“Hello,” I say, smiling as I walk up to them.

Sofia’s eyes flick over my outfit, and a pleased smile lights up her beautiful face. “Oh my God, that shirt is everything!” she says eagerly. “Beckham willhateit, and that kind of makes it fabulous!”

“Pink!” the twin in Aaron’s arms says, pointing excitedly at my shirt.

“Yes, Lucy, Georgie loves pink,” Sofia says, grinning. “Georgie, this is my husband, Aaron. Aaron, this is Georgie Goodwin, Beckham’s newgirlfriend.”

Aaron—who is good-looking in his own right, tall and blond and handsome in a preppy kind of way—shakes his head as hegrins at me. “I don’t know how you got roped into our circus, but I feel like I should start by saying thank you for being brave enough to walk into the big tent after being invited by the master of ceremonies,” he teases, giving Sofia a pointed side-eye.

I instantly like him, and I can’t help but smile at his witty comment. “I think it’s a win for both parties,” I say cheerfully. “And as a bonus, I’m bringing Beckham some Christmas cheer tonight with my outfit.”

“See, Aaron? I told you she’s a gem!”

I can tell Aaron is not convinced that Beckham will think I’m such a gem in my nutcracker getup.

“Come on, we’re here early enough that we can get a good spot on the glass for warm-ups,” Sofia says.

I fall in step with them as we head toward one end of the arena.

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