Page 40 of Tempting

“I’m in my office, son,” Dad calls back.

Mom and Dad bought this place before any of us were born, and they never moved again. It’s crazy to think about all the memories this house holds, and so many of the good ones with Dad are in this office. I walk in and find him behind his desk and Gordie asleep in his bed, next to the old man’s feet. Looks like he didn’t miss me too much. “Don’t you have a walk through or something today?”

Dad takes off his glasses and leans back in his desk chair as he stretches. “Not until this afternoon. Grandpa had something this morning, so he pushed our walkthrough back. How were your games?”

“Good.” I drop down into the leather wingback chair across from his desk and look to see if Gordie moves. He doesn’t. One eye opens before he yawns and goes back to sleep, snoring like a trucker with a two-pack-a-day habit. “Team seems to be playing well. We’ve got a few more games next week, then the season starts the following week.”

“How did Leo play? I haven’t talked to either of you this week.”

“You know how preseason is. We’re working out a few kinks, but he’s holding his own. How about you? The Kings gonna make it to the Super Bowl this year?”

Nostalgia washes across his face. “It’d be nice, but it’s too soon to tell. Ask me again in December. That’s when bowls are won or lost before they ever get played. You coming to the game this weekend?”

I press the toe of my sneaker to Gordie’s paw, trying to get some excitement out of him.

It doesn’t work.

Lazy fucker.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ve got to look at our schedule. We play Hendrix’s team the first week in October. I’ll make sure to tell Mom so she can add it to the calendar.”

“It’s already on there. She’s beside herself. She’s never had her kids playing against each other before.” He crosses his arms over his chest in a move so familiar I might as well be a kid getting punished for fucking with the twins’ dolls or something. “Not a pro game anyway.”

“I was going to say we played each other in college.” I look around the room at the pictures lining the walls. Our family history on display. Us kids. My Uncle Tommy. Mom and Dad. Aunts and uncles, cousins, grandparents. Memories. That’s what Dad always said mattered most in the world.

His number was retired, but there’s no jersey hanging.

No rings displayed.

One lone football sits on a shelf behind him. It’s his last game ball from his final pro game. Every other thing in this room represents the people he puts above all else. He always knew the game would end. He always made us his priority.

He’s a hard act to follow and an impossible man to live up to. He always teased us for playing hockey instead of football. Never in a mean way, but football was his first love before he met Mom, so it’s hard to imagine he wasn’t a little disappointed when all three boys decided to play hockey.

What he never realized was that, even as kids, we knew his shoes would be impossible to fill. It was easier to find our own. And three would-be football princes decided they wanted to be hockey kings instead.

“I think your mother blocked those games out. She hated watching you go against your brothers on the ice.”

I know the grin on my face is cocky as hell. “It’s not my fault Leo and Hendrix couldn’t get into the better hockey school.”

Dad narrows his gaze in warning, and I laugh. “It’ll be a good game. Tell her not to worry.”

“Have you met your mother, son? She’ll never stop worrying about you kids. So how about you tell me how you’re really doing. Didn’t look like Easton Hayes was too thrilled for you to be at the hospital benefit with his little sister the other night.” He stands up, and Gordie pops right up with him.

Traitor.

I scoop the fat little fucker up and hold him in front of me. “You know you’re mine, right?”

Dad chuckles and pulls a treat from his pocket, then holds it in front of Gordie’s face.

No wonder he loves him. “You’re bribing my dog.”

“We used to bribe you kids too.” Dad shrugs. “Works better on Gordie.”

“Whatever... And to answer your question, Easton and I are fine.” Something about that doesn’t ring true, but I keep that to myself.

“Didn’t look fine, but suit yourself.” He walks me to the front door but stops before he opens it. “You were always my kid that was the most focused, Nixon. Even more so than Gracie. She had her friends and a life apart from ballet. But you... you never let yourself have a life outside of hockey. It’s been your whole life for as long as I can remember. Be careful. That’s going to come back to bite you in the ass one day. Time is a thief.”

“What do you mean?” I press because cryptic was never my thing.

---