The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

He guides me to the car silently, in a controlled manner, his face deadpan. I can sense the distance between us like a crater, even though he’s molded to my side. My nerves gnawing at me, mood wary, skin tingling with apprehension that something is off and different this time. I know that lately, we haven’t exactly been getting on, for months now there’s been coolness between us, but right now beside him, I can almost taste that something has changed in how he’s being.

Maybe he really has just had enough.

Uncertainty sends my already fragile stomach into a washer-like frenzy, hating that being in tune with him means I am so sensitive to exactly this kind of thing.

His car has been deposited on the sidewalk neatly, all four gleaming wheels on the concrete, of a sleek gray Mercedes he bought only weeks ago to replace his electric blue sports car. Arrick is growing up, leaving behind that young fast life, and settling down, and I don’t know how to feel about it. He’s changing, has been for a while, and I guess it’s one of the reasons we are not as close as we once were. He’s growing up and I’m too far behind him.

We move to the car, where an exceptionally large black-coated bouncer is leaning against it casually, with a beaming smile as he sees us approach.

“Arrick, my main man!” He grins and fist bumps him as we close the gap, still holding me firmly, heating up my body despite the chill around us and my lack of jacket. I smile weakly at the man, knowing the game I have to play when with him. He is sociable with everyone, has time for most people, and he likes those around him to have manners to suit. He’s fast becoming a celebrity on his own terms, not just another Prince of Carrero and following in his brother’s footsteps as the face of the company. His fight titles are making him known on his own, his skills and wins, making a name that means something more to him.

can guide and ease me into the door that another bouncer opens for us with a half-smile, and nods towards him. All I have is the heaviness of fatigue, dizzy with it, just aching to sit down and have some peace. My head is banging and that nausea that has been swirling around is making me hot and stuffy. I fall into the cool seat of his car interior with sheer relief, so glad to be back on my ass and relax into the molded curves with a sigh. The urge to slide my shoes off is insane,

at Saturday’s fight, man.” The male ducks and dives, throwing a couple of mock air punches with a smile, trying hard to impress Arry and getting all jocular and best buddy. I resist the urge to eye roll, now nestled in my seat away from his caring hands and slide down the leather to try and just calm the side to side waves going on around me. “My money is already on you, Bruv’. Tornado Carrero is a sure thing! I saw you at your last and you were on

the car. Very street ghetto and I suppress the urge to giggle at how many layers to him there really is. Businessman when he needs to be and the company requires him, then casual lad about town when he’s with me, or street thug when faced with adoring fight fans. He slides in his own side as the second bouncer leans into the frame

me so his hand rests on my naked inner thigh innocently, to take his weight. He strains forward to see the towering figure whose

warm softness there. He leans in close to me and catches my seatbelt over my right shoulder, pulls it across me with eyes on the task and buckles me in. Not that I’m incapable, but this is just one of the many things he has always done when looking after me. I watch his face closely, so close I can almost touch him. Eyes downwards, watching what he is doing and still that emotionless expression. He smells like he always does; a mix of him, his unique Arry smell and his favorite spicy aftershave.

and back into traffic carefully. I glance his way, more than aware that nothing about his mood has changed. He’s simmering, looks tense, and way too calm, despite how normal he was with those security men. That can only mean he’s

with that sexily cropped sandy colored hair and those gorgeous hazel eyes. The deadpan nature of that face when he wants to avoid drama and argument. Even knowing him as I do, it still leaves me guessing sometimes at his ability to close down communication and deliberately shut people out. Something he never used to do to me at all,

been lacking increasingly in the past months, even before I started partying harder and moved to the city permanently. Getting more like his dad I guess; he has that same cool and distant personality and crazily aloof way of dealing with stuff from time to time. I love Giovanni like a second or third dad, I really do, and he seems to have a soft spot for me, but it’s still infuriating as hell that they share this

serious girl with little to no sense of humor, that same outwardly aloof way of dealing with life and always aware of how people view her. I feel like she is just rubbing