Page 67 of Sweet Poison

Again…of course.

That’s who she is. Good to her core.

When I don’t say anything right away, a soft blush creeps up her neck, and the pink spreads across her cheeks like a warm and pretty sunshine. “I know my dream it’s silly…even childish.”

I shake my head and meet her gaze, my voice steady. “I don’t think it’s silly, Willow. Not at all. I think you’re going to change the world. One day.”

Her breath hitches and her eyes grow soft.

What I don’t say— what I can’t— is that she’s already been changing my world, little by little, and I didn’t notice until today. Because I woke up one morning feeling numb— like I was just existing— and then, suddenly, with her…I feel it all.

And I’m fucking scared—fucking terrified.

Because for so long, all I’ve ever known is pain. It’s been my loyal companion. So, what the fuck do I do with the one thing I’ve been running from for years… love?

Willowand I step out of the restaurant, the cool breeze wrapping around us like a soft blanket. The path ahead is alive with twinkling lights overhead, casting a magical glow that dances across the cobblestones beneath our feet.

“God…” Willow breathes, her voice full of wonder. “I think I’m falling in love with this place.” I turn to look at her, unable to stop myself. Her beautiful face lights up under the moon and her eyes wide with awe as the stars above seem to reflect in them. “How beautiful…” she whispers to no one but the night itself, but it feels like she’s speaking to me. To us.

While she looks at the twinkling lights, I can’t help but focus only on her. She’s all I see lately, All I ever want to see.

Shit.

As we continue walking without a destination, the path curves, revealing a beautiful archway draped in strings of lights, each one glowing like the stars in the night sky.

“Willow,” I whisper as I guide her beneath the arch. The lights flicker above us, and I stop, turning to face her.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

She looks up at me, brows furrowed in confusion. “For what?” she asks, her voice gentle but curious.

I swallow hard, my throat tight, and for a moment, I can’t find the right words. How do I say everything that’s been building inside, the strange feeling inside my chest whenever she’s near, without sounding like a damn fool?

Thank you for being here. Thank you for being you. Thank you for lighting up my life with your sweet light when all I ever saw was darkness. Thank you for chasing the bad shit away.

But I chicken the fuck out and instead I say, “Thank you for joining me for dinner.”

Fuck. Out of everything I could say, that’s what comes out.

Willow tilts her head back, laughing softly, and I swear I hear angels sing. The sound of her laugh is like music to my ears. I can’t get enough of it.

I smile at the sound, my chest warming, feeling lighter than I have in a long fucking time. “What?” I ask, pretending to be offended but the smile on my face shows that I’m anything but.

Her laugh is kind and genuine— never mocking.

She ducks her head shyly and shrugs. “N-Nothing.” Her eyes soften. “It’s just that you’re adorable when you’re awkward.”

Faking fake outrage, I frown. “I’m not adorable.”

She smiles wider, looking less shy. “You’re pouting.” She points to my face. “Now, that’s just cute.”

Cute.

Should I take that as a compliment?

I remain quiet, and with each passing second, I watch the flush on her cheeks deepen, a pretty pink that draws me in even more. Her slow, breathy intake of air has me leaning in closer, helpless to resist.

Then, she glances up at me. Her eyes are shy but bright, and my heart stutters skipping a thousand fucking beats. “Thank you for inventing me,” she whispers, her voice soft and sweet. “I had the best time.”

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