Page 53 of Power Play

“Well, yeah. I’m always early. If you’re not early, you’re—”

“Late. Yeah, yeah, I know,” I cut him off. “Your father has been breathing that down my neck for years,” I tell him, reaching for the glass of scotch he ordered for me. “So, what’s this all about? Why did we need to meet?”

“I just wanted to have some time to talk. You’re very good at making sure the people you love are taken care of. You’re always there for us. But you’re shit at taking care of yourself. To be honest, I’ve noticed it for years, and it’s gotten even worse since your injury. After you had Rory, you started putting yourself last.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be, man. Kids come first,” I grumble, not liking where this is going. “Rory is and will always be my number one priority,” I say, emphasizing my point.

“I get it, and I agree. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t make changes or make decisions that will benefit both of you. Rory deserves to see her dad happy,” he says.

“I am happy,” I growl.

“No, you’re content. There’s a big fucking difference, and we both know it. You’re satisfied with the way things are and are determined to not let anything change. But that also means that it’s always going to be just you and Rory,” he pushes.

“What’s wrong with that? That’s all I need, and I’m all she needs. Plus, she has my parents and my sister,” I respond stubbornly.

“What happens when Rory grows up? What happens when she goes off to college? Then it’s just you by yourself. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy? That you deserve to share your life with someone? There’s also the other side of it too,” Trevor says, sipping his scotch in between thoughts. “What happens when your little girl gets older and starts missing that permanent female presence in her life? She’s going to want someone she can talk to, someone she can ask all the ‘lady-bit’ questions that come up. I mean, unless you want to talk about periods, birth control, and sex with your little girl.” I can’t help the growl that immediately comes from my mouth when he says that.

“Trevor. Don’t.”

“What? Just because you want to pretend none of that exists, doesn’t make it true. It’s going to happen, and at the end of the day, you also need to take care of yourself,” Trevor says, his tone firm.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“Well, for starters? You kicked a girl out of your house after sleeping with her. A girl that we could all tell you were actually starting to like, more than just tolerate.”

“Trevor, you just said the problem. She’s a girl. She’s twenty-four for fucks sake. I’m thirty-seven. She’s practically a kid,” I groan.

“Shut up. You sound like a fucking idiot right now. She’s not a kid. She’s mature, has dreams she’s following and puts up with your grumpiness better than we do half the time. Besides, you weren’t such a troll around her, you started to open up and have fun, even if it was when you didn’t think we were watching. Plus, the best part? Rory already loves her; Stella told me all about that.”

“Are you all teaming up against me?” I ask, my frustration mounting. “Sawyer and I ended things because she’s young. Her brother is a player, you know that. With her age I never know what choices she’s going to make. Plus, her relationship with Rory is a factor,” I explain, rubbing my hands over my stubble, which is merely a day or two away from being a full-blown beard. “What kind of dad would I be if I were willing to risk keeping her around on a personal level, knowing it could impact Rory’s relationship with her? What if I did try to date her and it ends? Would her and Rory be okay? Would she leave Rory too? I can’t do that to my little girl,” I say, feeling defeated.

“I just have one question,” Trevor says. “What happens if you do date her, and it does work out? Then Rory would get to see you happy, in a relationship with someone who already cares about her. To me, that sounds like a perfect scenario.”

“I’m... honestly? I’m just too fucking scared I’m going to fuck it up. When Miranda left her with me, I told myself I would always put her first. Wouldn’t this be me going back on my word?” I question.

“No, Rex. You don’t need to turn into a monk just because you’re a single dad. In fact, you’d probably be a lot happier if you had your dick touched more often,” he chuckles.

I glare.

“I’m not a fucking monk.”

“Having sex once a year when your parents take Rory to their cabin doesn’t count,” he counters.

“It’s not once a year, fucker.”

Trevor just stares with an annoyingly knowing look. I mean, I guess he’s not entirely wrong. I haven’t actually dated anyone since Rory, and I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve hooked up with someone since then. And it only takes one finger to show the number of people I’ve wished I could hook up with again.

Sawyer.

She’s the only one I wish I could see again. I enjoyed spending time with her outside of being naked, although I wouldn’t mind doing that again with her either. But it doesn’t change the circumstances. Besides, she still has that stupid fucking job.

“Trevor, think about all of the things against us, and the fact that she’s still working at Atlantis. How am I supposed to bring a girl home to Rory who works at a strip club?”

“What is this, the 1800s?” Trevor challenges me. “Why does what she does for a living impact who she is as a person? Are you really that much of a dick that you would judge a person based on that? If she works at the daycare, getting an education, and has a second job to help follow her dreams, what is she doing wrong? It’s not like she fucks a new guy every night for a living. She’s a bartender. And besides, Cassie told me today that we were the only table she’s ever served, and that you were the only person she ever danced for,” he finishes.

That hits me right where it fucking hurts. I’ve never cared what people do for a living, especially when they’re doing it to follow their dreams. I worked my ass off to get where I am today, but without my family supporting me, who knows what I would’ve had to do to get here. Do I even actually know why she does it?

“She was going on stage the other night,” is all I am able to come up with in response, which Trevor must think is funny because his stupid ass grin is back, and his eyes are glistening with enjoyment, slowly taking over the seriousness that had just covered his face.

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