Page 71 of Sweet Poison

Does he like what he sees?

Nerves flutter in my stomach. The way he looks at me feels as if he’s trying to piece together a puzzle he can’t quite solve. I shift slightly, feeling the grass tickling my skin, but it does nothing to ease the tension building between us.

I can’t read his expression. He looks uninterested but I know better. There’s curiosity, maybe a hint of something deeper in his eyes that leaves me feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated.

I focus on my breathing, but it’s harder now. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. It’s like my every breath is shaky, and I can’t decide if I want to giggle, hide my face, or run in the opposite direction.

What does he see when he looks at me? Am I just the girl he grew up with, or something more? I wonder if the kiss changed anything—or maybe I’m just a fool to think someone like him would be interested in boring, weird me.

Madden takes a step closer, his brow furrowing as he watches me. My pulse quickens under his intense gaze, nerves prickling at the back of my neck. In a rush of impulse, I blurt out, “Do you want to join me?”

He raises a brow, looking as if he would rather shoot himself in the eye than do yoga. “I don’t do yoga,” he replies, his tone bored.

I can’t help but smile cheekily. “Oh, come on, sweet grinch. You might actually enjoy it! It could help you be less grumpy.”

He looks at me as if I’ve suggested he dress up as Santa Claus and spread some holiday joy, and I can’t help but giggle at the thought.

But then, when he says nothing I feel a little deflated, and I sigh dramatically. “Okay, fine. I’ll see you later, then. Ethan invited me to join him on a hike.”

Okay, that’s not nice but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The mention of Ethan has an immediate impact on Madden. His whole demeanor shifts, and I watch as his jaw tightens, his dark eyes narrowing like I’ve just betrayed. He growls low in his throat—yes, growls—and suddenly he looks like a jealous, green monster.

“A hike?” he asks, his voice sharper now, almost challenging.

I try hard not to smile. “Do you not like Ethan?”

He opens his mouth, but then pauses, looking like he’s trying to decide whether to speak or just growl at me again. His expression is a mix of frustration and something else, something deeper—maybe even something dangerous?

Is he jealous?

“No,” he says, his voice tight.

“But why?” I feign ignorance. “He’s a nice guy.”

Madden doesn't respond right away, but his eyes flash something feral. Then, he says through gritted teeth, “He wants you.”

“No, he doesn’t,” I reply quickly, too quickly. “Ethan’s just… friendly.” When he doesn't say anything, I feel my heart race. He’s angry… “Is that a problem for you?” I gulp, then add. “Him wanting me?”

For a long moment, Madden just stares at me, his jaw clenched. I hold my breath, waiting for some sort of response, but instead of snapping or storming off, he surprises me by coming over and sitting down on the grass next to me with a huff.

“How does this shit work?” he asks, his voice low and grumpy.

I grin. “It’s really simple. Just follow my lead,” I say, trying to keep my tone calm as I guide him into a seated position. I demonstrate a basic breathing exercise. “Just inhale deeply through your nose, hold it for a second, then exhale through your mouth.”

Madden mimics my movements, but his breaths are short and choppy, his brow furrowed in concentration. I watch him, trying not to laugh. He looks so grumpy while trying to relax.

“Seriously? This is supposed to help me?” he grumbles, his voice muffled as he exhales like it’s the most burdensome task in the world.

I nod, stifling a laugh. “Just give it a chance, grumpy. Try to relax!”

He shoots me a look, half exasperated, half amused, and I feel like I might collapse from how funny he looks. “I look fucking ridiculous, don’t I?” he asks, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.

I bite my lip to suppress a grin and shake my head. “You’re perfect,” I say a little too quickly.

The words hit me as soon as they leave my mouth, and my cheeks flood with heat. I quickly glance away, pretending to focus on the flowers around us, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. I hope he didn’t notice how nervous I feel.

“Willow,” he whispers. “Look at me.”

---