Chapter 16

Descending the stairs, I enter the kitchen, anticipation rising within me. Like Sloane said, a cup of coffee sits on the counter by the fridge.

My dad is nowhere to be seen, which isn't surprising, but I need to have a word with him. A loud growl comes from my stomach, and luckily, I find a plate of crispy bacon sitting untouched on the counter. Without hesitation, I snatch a couple of slices and stuff them into my mouth, savoring the salty goodness as I chew.

After checking his bedroom, I check the office. I open the door and stick my head in, finding him hunched over a set of blueprints. The architect sent them over yesterday for the project we're about to start. He's studying them so hard, he doesn't even notice me lingering in the doorframe.

I knock once, announcing myself, before stepping inside. My dad looks up, a knowing look in his eye. Without a word, I shut the door firmly behind me.

He gestures for me to sit down. "I figured it wouldn't be long until you came down here."

I settle into the worn leather chair opposite him. "Yeah, kind of expected when you fuck my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" He folds his arms on his desk.

"You know what she means to me. So tell me why she came upstairs with a handprint on her ass and was crying?"

"What did she tell you happened?"

"You fucked her." I'm trying to stay cool, but his coyness is pissing me off. He's never acted like this before, so why now? What is it about Sloane that has him so riled up?

"My question is, why did you fuck her? You've had no interest in anyone in years and now all of a sudden you fuck Sloane. Why?"

He sighs, rubbing his temples with his index fingers. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

It's not like he can claim it was an accident or misunderstanding.

Oops, I slipped and my cock fell into her pussy.

"We had an argument, she slapped me, and I just snapped."

"Wha—"

"I don't know, Atlas!" He slams his hands on his desk. "She was in the kitchen and just seeing her there made me think of Ali and I was an asshole, okay? She slapped me. Which I deserved, and I lost control."

"She's not Ali. You can't punish the daughter for the mother's sins."

Why am I the child in this situation but giving my dad life advice? Woman advice, the same woman who's sleeping in my bed after I just fucked her… again.

"I'll apologize. She didn't deserve that," he mumbles.

My eyebrow quirks. "Are you apologizing for the words or the sex?"

"Atlas," he warns.

I don't react, just lean back in the chair and watch him as he eyes me.

"Where is she now?"

"Said she was exhausted. She's in my bed napping."

"I'll order dinner and we can eat together tonight. That work for you?" His head tilts slightly.

"Yup." I stand, leaving the room and heading back up to my girl.

Little white takeoutboxes cover the kitchen table, and I'm about to sit down to enjoy some Chinese with Sloane and my dad

"Think you ordered enough, Dad?" I quip, eyeing the table.

He chuckles, glancing at Sloane. "Well, I didn"t know what Sloane liked, so I just got a bit of everything."

Sloane speaks up, her voice soft but confident, "Well, thank you. But I"m not picky."

It took some convincing to get her down here. After she woke up from her nap, we watched a movie and cuddled in bed. When I suggested dinner downstairs with all three of us, she hesitated at first.

It would be weird, she said, and she didn"t want to cause any issues between my dad and me. I assured her that there wasn"t anything weird between me and her or my dad and her, but that"s not what she was worried about. No. It was about my dad and I's relationship and how she may have strained it.

She"s perfect.

Worrying more about everyone else instead of herself.

I dish her up some combination kow, egg rolls, shrimp toast, and crab rangoons, then fix my own plate. At first, there's a heavy air of awkwardness as we silently eat. Finally, my dad breaks the ice.

"Sloane," he begins, catching her attention in the middle of lifting her fork to her mouth. "I owe you an apology," he continues. "I"m sorry for what I said this morning. It was wrong. I don"t know the woman that you are now. But the Sloane I remember was nothing like her mom, and from your reaction, I"m willing to go out on a limb and say you"re not now either."

Sloane smiles. "Thank you, Ripley. I"m not sorry I slapped you, though. You deserved it. I"m not a violence-first type of girl, but you pissed me off. I"ve spent a lot of time avoiding and trying to be nothing like Ali. I haven"t even seen her in almost a year."

"So tell us then, Sloane, why were you there last night? Why auction yourself off?" I ask, wanting to know what drove her to sell herself for a weekend.

I'm not mad since it led us back to each other, but it definitely piques my interest.

"I don't want to talk about that," she mumbles around a mouthful of shrimp toast.

"If you need money or, well, anything for that matter, you can always come to us," my dad tells her.

"Thank you for that. But until last night, I didn't know either of you wanted to see me or even cared that I still existed."

I wipe my mouth with a napkin before answering. "I can't believe you didn't know about the restraining order. I hate that you felt we didn't care or weren"t looking."

"Just another way Ali has fucked me. I'm used to it by now." She offers a slight smile.

For the rest of the dinner, easy conversation flows between us, the tension from earlier disappearing with each passing moment.

Sloane offers to do the dishes, but her insistence is met with protests from Dad and me. But she doesn"t take no for an answer and gets up, grabbing our plates and silverware.

While Sloane washes them, Dad and I pack up the leftovers and put them in the fridge for later.

"Dinner was nice. Thank you. I'm going to head back to the office," Dad announces.

"No." Sloane pouts, her expression stopping him in his tracks. "Play a game with us."

Dad raises an eyebrow. "What are you going to play?"

Sloane"s eyes sparkle. "Atlas insists he can beat me in Texas Hold"em, but he"s sadly mistaken. It"ll be more fun with the three of us. Come on."

After a moment"s consideration, Dad gives in.

We make our way to the living room, taking our seats around the coffee table, the cards and chips already laid out before us.

Dad deals the first hand and Sloane"s smirk grows as she checks out her cards, mirth dancing in her eyes.

We exchange cautious glances, our competitiveness sparked as we prepare to play against her.

Since Dad is the dealer, he initiates the first round of betting.

As the game progresses, the community cards are revealed one by one: the flop, the turn, and finally, the river.

Bluffs and raises are called as we try to outsmart each other.

Sloane, in particular, proves to be a master of bluffing, her moves calculated and deliberate.

The game eventually ends and Sloane emerges victorious, earning her the title of champion, while Dad and I accept defeat.

Gathering the cards and poker chips, I start to put everything away. My dad collects the remnants of our game—empty bottles, discarded snack wrappers—and throws them away.

Sloane lets out a yawn. "I"m going to head up to bed. I can sleep in my old room if it"s still empty?" she asks, uncertainty lacing her words.

"You"re sleeping with me," I growl, the words leaving my lips before I can even process them fully.

A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, and she tilts her head to the side. "I don"t want to be a bother," she protests, her gaze meeting mine.

I shake my head. "You"re not a bother, Sloane. I want you in my bed," I reassure her.

"Okay," she whispers.

A sense of relief washes over me. As she starts to make her way up the stairs, I follow her, my eyes fixed on her plump ass as she takes each step.

When we reach the top of the staircase, anticipation builds within me. Tonight feels different somehow.

Following Sloane into my room, I know that one weekend won't ever be enough. She's back and I'm going to convince her that she should stay.