Page 233 of The Villain We Tempt

“The point is, trust between two people is fluid, not static. It doesn’t stay the same, it ebbs and flows like the tide. It can break. It can also be rebuilt. I was wrong for not trusting your Papa's commitment to his sobriety. He was wrong for not trusting me about the bottle of booze.”

I snort. “Yeah, but… Youdidn’ttrust him.”

“Not when I first saw that bottle, no, and that was wrong. Look, being with someone, whether it’s love, sex, or friendship,isabout trust. Trusting them with your honesty, your heart, your feelings, sometimes your body. But also trustingyourself. There’s no halfway point to either of those, by the way. Like, either you trust someone or yourself, or you don’t. You neversort oftrust, because that’s not actually trust, that’s just…” he shrugs. “Cautious optimism.”

My mouth pulls into a smile. “That’s a really good line.”

Dad chuckles. “I’m thinking about becoming a writer. What do you think, should I try my hand at those spank books of yours?”

“Dad!” I groan.

He smiles, then eyes me more seriously. “If you and this mystery dead-man-walking are going to be together, it means trust, both ways. And that trust has to be one hundred percent. So…” He tips his head. “Doyou trust him?”

“Yes.”

It comes right out without hesitation.

I meanreally, self? Not even alittlepushback?

I sigh. “Yeah, I do.”

Dad laughs again. “Well then, that brings me to the million dollar question.” He levels a look at me. “Do you trustyourself?”

“In what way?”

He shrugs. “Any and all. But right now specifically, I mean do you trust yourself enough to know that when your heart feels something, it’s probably right? Even if your head insists on being an asshole and throwing in some doubt just because?”

I look at the ceiling. “Maybe.”

“Uh-uh, that’s the asshole in your head talking.” He points a finger at the screen. “Do you, daughter of mine, trust yourself? Enough to take off whatever mask you’re still wearing with this guy and show him the real you? Gotta tell you,big fanof the real you, peanut.”

I chew on my lip. “I…want to?”

He shakes his head with a grin. “Nope. Try again.”

I laugh quietly. “I’m going to try my best. To trust myself, I mean.”

“Hey, that’s all anyone can do,” he smiles. “What was this guy’s name again?”

I grin. “Smooth.”

He chuckles. “Worth a shot. But I guess this means I can put away the power tools and blowtorch?”

I groan. “Please do.”

A smile spreads across his face. “Well, that's the extent of my parental advice for the night. My tank runneth dry.”

I smile widely at him. “Thank you. Really.”

“Oh you can thank me bynevermentioning to your Papa that I actively assisted you in making up with a boy and getting you back together with him.”

“What, don’t youtrustyour husband?” I say in an ultra saccharine, sarcastic tone.

“No one likes a smart ass, kiddo,” Dad laughs. “Now, do me a favor. Go join Arianna and rock the fuck out to that band. It’ll help, I swear.”

“You trying to get rid of me?” I tease.

“Never. But it’sreallyhard to have a deep discussion with your daughter when there’s a pair of handcuffs attached the bed frame behind her.”