The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

He watches me for a few seconds before reaching out and catches my hand across the table, interlacing my fingers in his in a gesture that makes me instantly forget how much of an ass he’s been all morning.

“I’m glad you came home with me, glad that we talked and had ‘us’ time.” Smiling at me honestly, no cool guard up and I melt back at him, all moods fluttering away in the light of that smile.

“Me too.” I pull my hand away as I see ‘Madame of the kitchen’ coming our way with plates and a dish towel slung over one arm. Even though I know there’s nothing in it, it makes me uncomfortable, her seeing when he’s being warmly affectionate. She smiles brightly, completely pleased with herself no doubt, for her culinary masterpiece, as she slides two plates of pancakes in front of us.

Or should I say two plates of weird looking ‘splat’ cakes swimming in a white fluid of some sort that has coated lumpy bits of I don’t know, under its surface. I blink at it in confusion, mouth snapping shut as she kisses Arrick on the cheek sweetly and stands back to admire her offerings with pride. I have to curb the urge to screw my face up and point at it dramatically, a sense of disappointment coming over me in an outraged wave.

What the actual…

“You two eat, I’m going to clean myself up in your bathroom. I made a mess of my clothes.” She smiles affectionately, pointing at a tiny little dot of batter on her floaty dress and shakes her head. She leans down and lays the towel over my lap for me, as though I’m a child who clearly leaves a mess, and then moves off towards his room while untying the apron I only now realize she’s wearing.

Who the hell brings and wears an apron to cook? And yet still gets food on her dress!

obviously anemic attempt at a pancake with my fork as soon as she is out of earshot, alarmed to

pancake … clearly.” Arrick stifles a laugh, goes to dig into his flat white offering, drowning in what I think is yogurt and maybe some

not to look

offend my mouth what whatever the hell this is. My stomach is doing the rhumba, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to infect my constitution with some organic, wholesome, probably gluten-free bull crap that looks like

my diet seriously; she’s just being a good girlfriend and doing her best. You’re going to hurt her feelings.” Arrick frowns at me, but those dimples on

flour, and maybe color to them.” I point out with a serious expression; sheer disbelief on my face that she actually thinks this stuff is edible. I hate to think what he actually eats when she’s here. Maybe that’s why he indulges me in takeout a lot, so he can get a decent meal when she’s overtaking his kitchen and pretending, she’s some

teach you? Do you remember the brownies you made, Sophs?” Arrick chews pauses and swallows without trying to look alarmed or react in any way. A serious look in those pretty eyes and

down?” I lift my eyebrows at him and this time he chuckles involuntarily and then glances around in alarm in

just being

would have taken me for something I might actually like, or just cooked them for me instead. Your pancakes reign supreme, especially next to these. I want real food.” I frown and make a stab at spearing fruit, something I recognize

may be like organic plain yogurt, and not even the nice flavored stuff that doesn’t taste like bitter, year old milk. I