The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 9: 9

“I’m sorry,” I whisper hopelessly, clinging onto him and snuggle closer, wanting so badly to just climb inside his skin and feel more secure. Suddenly full of remorse. I don’t even know at what, and wanting nothing else than this here right now, him and me, like we used to be. That cool poised version of him has drifted away and the anxiety inside of me lessens a little.

“What am I going to do with you, Mimmo?” Arrick has lost that edge to his tone too, lost his anger when faced with me in real heartfelt tears, sobbing my broken heart out and clinging desperately to him. “Sophie, you can’t keep going on like this. You’re hurting yourself and everyone who loves you. This is hurting me.” He moves his arms down to encircle my waist, so he can angle his face down to mine as best he can, trapping my arms under his so I can’t maneuver away. Holding me so I can’t walk off when I console myself, or storm away if I don’t like what he wants to say. He knows me too well.

“I know.” I sniff back the waterworks and try to tilt my chin lower, so he can’t get eye to eye with me. I don’t want him to see the mess I get in when I cry. I hate being vulnerable and weak and looking this terrible up close and personal.

“Then talk to me, tell me what’s going on in here.” He lets go with one hand and gently taps my forehead, moving a stray hair away from my face and tucks its highlighted blondness behind my ear softly, close enough to me that I can breathe his air. His proximity is soothing, even if it makes it impossible to dodge that intense look.

“I can’t … I don’t even know anymore.” I cry hopelessly some more, his strong arms find their way back around me snugly, comforting me and making me feel safe. That aching loneliness dispersing like it always does when I am with him. The only time that deep throb of nothing gives me a break in life.

“Are you still seeing your therapist?” He nudges me with his forehead to make me look up at him and I do so obediently, automatically, without thought. On some level, he still has the ability to make me obey him anyway, even if it is only subtle things like this.

the next bout of lectures that I know are coming. I haven’t been in months because I simply don’t think it helps anymore. I feel like it has done all it can for me and we’re just rehashing the same old shit. I want to move

getting high and partying your days away with random men, day in and day out, is doing nothing but harm to you, Sophs. I can’t stand seeing you this way, and I might not be there the next time some asshole takes a pop at you.” His words are soft and almost pleading, still nestling me against him tenderly. For the

gut aching with the familiar pang of guilt he always makes me feel when faced with my behavior. Except now, instead

new onslaught of soft tears which have risen to the surface make their way down my face. Arrick brushes them away with his thumb, focusing on my

much coaxing for that verbal pain to spew out when he has me this way. Malleable and easy to coax, half drunk, and torn

be different, I want to be different!” I drag in a heavy breath and pull back from the verge of hysterical tears that rear their ugly head from deep down. Arrick smooths more hair from my face, calming the internal stormy waves as he regards me solemnly. Absorbing my words, his own face showing signs of wavering emotion as his eyes glaze a little too. Hurt because I’m hurting. “I’m ashamed of who I’ve become.” The dam breaks with the shame of what I admit; tears and wracking sobs envelop me with the rush of words, letting it out in one steady swoop. Arrick pulls me closer still, gently stroking my arm and comforting me. Realizing that I am covered in goosebumps he lets me go, slides off his jacket and drapes it around my naked shoulders, then cuddles me back in against his chest, in a bid to calm me down and warm me. I didn’t

know is still in there, still capable of finding her way back out.” His voice low and husky, emotion obvious, and as gentle as the Arrick I have always known and loved. This is the boy who held me tight through tears after every day of court against my father, giving me the strength to face him head-on. Who held my hand and drove me to counseling for years on end and stayed ever present when I couldn’t face it alone. This is the boy who took me under his wing and became the steady

bout of heartfelt sobbing leaks out, as though a tap has been left open, but Arrick

deal with it alone. I’m here, Sophs, take from me what you need. You know I will move mountains for you, Mimmo.” Arrick tilts back his shoulders and head to see me better, lifts my chin

the hem of his jacket and curling myself into that strong hard chest. Taking my

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