Page 63 of Miami Ice

Jordan and Ella are having sex on the kitchen table. Ella is covered in whipped cream and sprinkles, and I don’t know what is even happening. Why am I staring at my naked sister covered in whipped cream? And oh my God, now I’ve seenJordannaked and I’ve seen his—

I scream and throw my hand over my eyes. Beckham runs into my back since I’ve stopped dead in my tracks. “Whoa!” he says.

Suddenly I hear Ella scream and Winston barking.

“Shit!” Jordan cries. “Shit!”

“Oh my God, why—what are you—” Ella babbles.

“I’m not looking and I’m taking Beckham to my bedroom,” I say, keeping my gaze locked straight ahead.

“Oh my God, I want todie!” she shrieks.

I act as if I have horse-racing blinders on and reach for Beckham’s hand. “Don’t look,” I command as I tug him behind me.

“Like I’mgoingto look?” he retorts.

“Oh my God!” Ella wails.

I drag Beckham to my room and throw open the door, turning on the lights. Winston follows us inside. I shut the door behind us and sag against it, trying to unsee a naked Jordan with a naked Ella, both of them covered in whipped cream.

“Cupcake,” Beckham says slowly, “when you told me to prepare to be dazzled, I had no idea you were preparing to show me liveporn.”

That does it. I look at him and burst out laughing, and he does, too.

“That hasneverhappened before,” I declare. “I can’t believe I walked in on Ella and Jordan having sex!”

Beckham walks around my room—which is also decked out for Christmas, complete with a pink Christmas tree twinkling with multicolored lights in the corner and a collection of tabletop trees in gold, silver, and white on my nightstand. My gray, padded headboard has an arrangement of faux pine branches entwined with white lights at the top, and my white bed linens are spruced up with pink Christmas pillows, including one that says “HO HO HO.” I have loads of soft pink and white throw pillows on the bed, and a pink faux fur blanket folded across the end of it.

He finally sits down on the end of my bed, and Winston heads up his dog ramp and takes a seat next to Beckham, who begins to pet him. “Looks like Winston enjoyed the show, he’s got whipped cream in his fur.”

I groan and sink into my desk chair, spinning around so I can face Beckham. “Hey! I just thought of something. That was my whipped cream and sprinkles they were using. Those are my hot chocolate supplies!”

I’ll never be able to look at my hot chocolate bar the same way ever again.

Beckham quirks a brow. “Are you going to demand they replace your stash? Or are you going to take that like agood girl,Georgie?”

We crack up all over again.

“Ella is so mortified,” I say, shaking my head. “And I’m sure Jordan is, too. But GAH, why didn’t she tell me she had sexy plans? I could have gone to a coffee shop or something until they were done!”

“A coffee shop? Georgie. You could have hung out with me until they were done fu—erm, having sex,” Beckham says.

I smile. I love that he tries not to swear in front of me.

But I love even more that he would have hung out with me of his own free will.

GEORGIE. Do you not remember what just happened with the tube top? Beckham has a friendly interest in you and nothing more.

“Hey. If you flip that ‘HO HO HO’ pillow around, you have what was about to happen in the kitchen if Ella took it like a good girl,” Beckham says.

I glance at the pillow and mentally flip it in my head.

It would say, “OH OH OH.”

I dissolve into giggles. “You are so naughty.”

“You have no idea how much,” he says, quirking a brow as he pets Winston’s head. Then he looks around. “Even your room is pink Christmas.”

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