Page 63 of Sweet Venom

Then there was the outfit. It was… me. High-waisted mom jeans. A white tank top that was just the right fit. Black heels that probably cost more than my first car. The black blazer was tailored to perfection. The tag inside saidDivine. My cousin Roman’s brand. He always sent us previews, but this outfit wasn’t one I’d ever seen before. Custom, maybe? The thought made my pulse jump.

Did Azariel ask for it?

He knew.

Heknewwhat I’d wear. What I’d like.

Yes, that thought made my heart beat faster in ways that made me embarrassed.What was happening?

So when I was getting ready I realized that the outfit— the tank top made my waist look smaller and my breast look big. I had to admit that I looked… hot. I opened the blazer and left it like that so the focus was on the jeans and tank top. That way I looked more casual than business.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of him—Azariel. His jaw was tight. His eyes are unreadable. But there was something else this time. A flicker of something beneath the surface. Annoyance. Why is he annoyed? All of this was his idea.

I smirked, leaning back in the passenger seat, arms crossed. “You know, I’ve always wondered how you manage to stay thismiserable all the time?” I tossed the question casually, watching him, waiting for some flicker of emotion.

He didn’t take his eyes off the road. Of course, he didn’t. He was always a man in control, alwaysjuston the edge of something I couldn’t touch. Always. “I’m not miserable, Poe,” he said, his voice cool, though I could detect a hint of something else. “I’m just not a fan of your fashion choices.”

My fashion choices? Seriously?

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “You’re the one who picked this out for me,” I shot back, raising an eyebrow.

His gaze didn’t flicker, but his fingers tightened slightly on the wheel. “I remember picking a longer shirt.”

I glanced down at the shirt again. It was a little long on me so I bunched up the fabric, pushing it higher to reveal my belly button, my grin turning into something sharper. Is this why he’s more moody than usual?

“Are you jealous?” I asked, a hint of mischief creeping into my voice. I glanced down at my outfit, then back at him.

Azariel’s gaze remained trained on the road, unfazed, but I could see the corner of his lips twitch ever so slightly. He didn’t answer, but I was sure I’d hit a nerve.

I lean back in my seat, feeling like for the first time in mine and Azariel history I had something against him. He’s jealous…

“It’s okay to admit it, you know? I looked from the corner of my eye at him. I watched as his dark brows pulled low as if he was deep in thought. “Jealousy is a human emotion and that means you’re not an alien. Here I thought you were from another planet. You ruin that fantasy kind of fast.” I teased, leaning back smugly. I couldn’t help but enjoy the rare moment of having something over him, even if it was just a tiny bit.

Azariel’s lips twitched just slightly. and my heart trips over itself. Come on… smile but he doesn’t. Instead, he said, “You’re lucky we’re running late,” he muttered.

I laughed. “Oh, so you would make me change?” I asked, almost too eager. “I’d pay to see you try.” He completely ignored my dig about being jealous. That’s fine. I’ll store that in my mind for later.

He didn’t even look at me this time, his grip tightening on the wheel just a little more. He was still so unreadable, and I was so getting under his skin. I like this. I like seeing him rattle even if it’s just a little. “You’re an insufferable brat,” he finally said, but the faintest trace of amusement lingered in his tone.

“Ouch,” I replied, placing my hand dramatically over my chest as though he’d just stabbed me through the heart with his favorite knife. “You wound me, boss.” His gray eyes flickered, following my hand, and I felt a brief, heated moment between us. I could feel my skin on fire. I swore, for a split second, I saw something in his gaze that wasn’t boredom or indifference.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Poe.”

I grinned, pushing his buttons. “You’re a lot of things, Azariel, and most of them bad, but not a liar,” I shot back, meeting his gaze with a smirk. I could feel the air in the van thickening between us, like we were both just one breath away from something raw— something real. I think I’m imagining this because it couldn’t be real. Not with us.

We’ve always been like fire and frost. Touch and recoil. Words that cut, and silences that hurt. Two beings orbiting something we couldn’t name, never quite colliding. Like the wolf and her moon.

That’s what he’s always been to me. The moon. Cold. Distant. Blinding and unreachable.

“I am,” he said.

My smile faltered. “What?”

“I’m a liar.”

He said it quietly. No venom. No anger. And then he looked at me— really looked at me— and I swore something crackedwide open in his eyes. Like he was holding out a confession I didn’t know how to take.

I blinked. Swallowed hard. My heart pounded like it wanted out of my chest.

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