Page 66 of Sweet Poison

Her cheeks are flushed, her lips are pink and so is her tongue… I wonder what else is…

“Enjoy your meal and happy holidays!” The waitress interrupts my perverted thoughts before moving on to pour the wine, the deep red liquid swirling in the glass like liquid garnet.

Willow takes a sip of her drink, her face lighting up. “Delicious. I don’t think there is anything as good and sweet as this drink!” she whispers in awe.

Oh, sweet Willow…I think to myself.I can think of something sweeter.

Oblivious to my dirty thoughts, she digs into her food, and I follow suit.

The moment the first bite hits my tongue, a burst of flavors explodes in my mouth.

We eat in comfortable silence, but I can’t help stealing glances at her while she savors the food. I watch the way the light catches her skin, making it glisten like liquid gold, the way her eyes sparkle more than usual tonight. And there’s something else, something small but adorable as fuck— three tiny freckles beneath her left eye, scattered like tiny stars across her face. I find myself tracing the path of those freckles and memorizing them in my mind.

Out of nowhere, I lean in a little closer/ unable to help myself. “Tell me everything about you.”

Willow pauses, her fork hallways to her mouth, eyes widening in surprise. “E-Everything about me? But why?” she stares at me with her eyebrows raised, curiosity mingled with confusion across her face.

I shrug casually. “Because I want to know. Because you, Willow O’Sullivan, are the most interesting human I’ve everknown,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “And… because fuck, I want to listen to your voice.”

Her mouth forms a soft ‘O’ and her expression softens at my confession. I watch her process what I just said. I can also see the wheels turning in her mind. “My voice?” she repeats, a hint of disbelief lacing her tone.

“Yeah,” I reply, my gaze steady on hers. “It chases the bad shit away. It always has.”

Her eyes mist over, and instantly, I curse myself for making her tear up. Shit.

I watch her nervously reach for her napkin, dabbing at her lips as if she’s unsure of what to say.

“I want to know you—beyond just the surface,” I add, my voice loud and sure. “I want to know what makes you tick, what you love, what you dream about. Everything.”

She bites her lip, pausing as she considers my words. “That’s easy,” she says softly. “My family.”

Family.

I figured.

The O’ Sullivan have always been a tight-knit bunch, and it’s obvious they still are.

“How are your parents?”

“They’re great,” she says with a smile that lights up her whole face. “Mom is busy running her bakeries and all her nonprofit organizations, trying to spread love and light everywhere she goes. And Dad… well, he's still terrorizing Philadelphia.” She laughs and the sound sends a shock to my once barely beating heart.

I didn’t get to have what she has. A good life. Loving parents. But I’m glad she does. I’m glad she has all the love in the world. No one deserves it more than her. No one.

“What else makes you happy?” I ask, taking a sip of my wine.

She taps her chin thoughtfully, looking utterly adorable. I can’t help but smile. “My job,” she beams as she takes a sip of her drink. “My job makes me really happy.”

Her job.

Of course.

Most people spend their entire lives hating the place they go to when they wake up in the mornings to hustle. Not Willow. I’ve seen firsthand the passion she has for science. It’s quite wholesome and inspiring to see. She genuinely loves what she does.

I want to ask her why she chose this path, but it's obvious. From the very beginning, she has lived and breathed nature. It’s in her blood, just like it’s in her mother.

Looking into her eyes, I ask the one thing I’ve been curious about since the first day I met her, “What do you dream about, Willow?”

Her smile widens, and I can see love and happiness lighting up her face. “I dream of changing the world.” she says, her voice gentle and full of passion. “I dream of making it better.”

---