Page 22 of Timelessly Ours

He steps closer and hands me back my phone. Then in a soft, almost puppy dog tone, he says, “I would very much appreciate it if you took Rory to school for me today.”

When I narrow my eyes at him, he rolls his playfully. “I mean, it’s the least you could do. You cost me a babysitter yesterday for no reason.”

I bite my lip and he looks as if he’s waiting for me to tell him why I’d gone off on Kathy.

“I had a reason. Just can’t remember what it was.” I rub my chin.

“Right.”

I shrug, stubbornly. “I suppose I could help you out today.”

Rory steps out onto the porch. “I ate all my pancakes!”

Royce keeps his eyes on me and grins. “That means the dog had a mighty big breakfast.” He holds out his hand to me.

With a soft laugh, I take it and follow him inside.

6

Robert Hastings walks into my office at eleven o’clock on the dot. I didn’t bother moving our meeting back to nine a.m. as initially planned. I had a point to make.

Robbie is in his early fifties. A retired pro-hockey player on the New York Blue Wings. There was a time I’d looked up to him. In my college years, when I was coming in and he was on his way out. He was the best in the league. Speed, agility, leadership, he had it all. Until a cracked wrist ended his career prematurely.

Along with my dream to play against him one day. Or better…beside him.

My rookie year in the NHL was his first year in early retirement. I still remember being somewhat star-struck when I met him at my first big event with the league that year.

I’ll never forget the bored expression he had when I introduced myself as the new center on the Buffalo Blades. His eyes averting mine as if he’d been looking for someone more interesting to talk to.

The man was my inspiration, my “hashtag goals” as Angel would say when she watched Olympic skaters do an axel jump.

I’d walked up to him feeling small and honored after following his career for so long—and within seconds, he’d crushed my existence down to nothing.

He was the last person I ever let myself truly admire.

Because years later, I found out exactly how he broke that wrist. It wasn’t an injury during a playoff game as we heard in the media. It was a fist fight with one of his teammates, who was trying to pull him away from a young woman Hastings was coming onto at a club—after she’d clearly and repeatedly expressed her disinterest.

After a few years coaching, he was replaced abruptly and went on to be a commentator for the league, but there’s been talk of him leaving the business. Which was fine with me.

Until I heard the man is gunning for my job as Head Coach of the Buffalo Blades.

“Thanks for meeting with me.” Robbie makes himself comfortable on the black leather sofa.

“Had to move some things around so I sincerely hope this isn’t a waste of my time,” I say, not bothering with pleasantries.

He gives me a tight grin as I lean against the edge of my desk with my arms crossed. “This won’t take long. As you may have heard, I’m retiring from the broadcasting business.”

I raise a brow. “I haven’t actually.” There’s no way I’m admitting to the rumors I’d heard. “Finally decide to move to Florida and take up golf?”

He chuckles insincerely. “No, no. I’m moving here.”

“Here?” I repeat with as much boredom as I can muster.

He stands with a sigh. “Yeah, why the hell not? Buffalo weather’s pretty much the same and I got a kid goin’ to a university nearby. Maybe even see if I can patch things up with my ex-wife. Well, one of em.” He chuckles.

“Congratulations.” I nod.

He fixes a piercing gaze at me. “Royce.”