“What traits did you inherit from your dad?” “My temper,” he admits, “and that’s where it gets tricky.” “Are you afraid of it?” “On the day-to-day, no, but my dad is. He’s afraid I’ll do something I can’t take back.” He lifts his gaze to mine. “Honestly? I’m a little afraid of it when it comes to you.” He stills my hands. “I would never hurt—” “Jesus, Easton, don’t even finish that.” I press in, ensuring he hears me as he rinses his hair. “Unconditionally,” I remind him. “I love all of you,” I whisper on a shaky breath, “I really, really fucking love you and will continue to, come what may. I
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