The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

“Shut up and listen to me.” He pulls me the last stretch of stair and into the familiar room I spent the past few years growing up in. All pink, white, soft, and frilly. Everything still as it was, as though I never left. My room looks like my parents have preserved it as such from the day I walked out.

My taste in décor has never grown from childish and cute; stuffed animals litter my bed, and shelves are filled with teen romance books and trinkets. Arrick has seen this room a million times and pulls me to my silver-gray chaise longue in front of the huge window, evicting fluffy pillows and blankets as he plonks me down harshly.

“I didn’t get you home so you could up and run again. Stop being selfish, Sophs. For once in your adult life, face the shit head-on and deal with things. You can’t keep having this knee-jerk reaction to life being hard, running solves nothing.” Arrick slides down on the seat next to me, still holding my hand, his eyes trained on my face imploringly.

“Running worked for me once.” I bite back on my tears, swallowing hard to stop them, lifting my face defiantly and reminding him of the fact that running was how I escaped a life of abuse at the hands of a violent sicko. Arrick sighs, bringing my forehead to his softly, wiping my tears with gentle fingers and calms me instantaneously. That ability of his to cut through all my bull and find my feet for me reigning supreme. I manage to bring that emotional outburst to a calm trickle of sniffs instead, breathing in the smell of him while being grounded by his warm face against mine.

“That is not the same thing. They love and miss you; they would never hurt you. All this in here,” he taps my head gently, “It’s fixable, Sophs. We did it before; we got you through some of the worst years of your life. I just need you to have some faith in us, to go back to your counselor and give your family a chance to help. No one here has done anything wrong. No one wants to see you hurting like this. We just want to help figure out why you’re so lost right now.” He catches my chin and tugs my face up towards his, so I have no choice but to look at him eye to eye. Locked onto that calming warm set of hazels imploringly, my face crumbles. That inner me that struggled alone for months in the city, finding her way out again. Like a child clinging on, I push away his words and focus on the real biting issue that’s coursing up inside of me.

one, dwarfing it, making it seem small while captured in his embrace. I watch the two of them entwine

and figure this out as you go.” Arrick brings our foreheads back to touch, resting gently, but the fact he is using the word ‘you’ instead of ‘we’ has my alarm bells going off

on his face, suddenly so much sadness in my heart that it instantly consumes it, and he falters. He sighs and glances down at my hand placed gently within

the Carrero Corp to oversee with Jake this week, but I’ll call you every night, text, and we can have you come to me every other weekend, or I can come here.” He sounds less confident

triggers my angry response to shield my heart from more hurt. This is nothing I don’t already know, haven’t already mulled over on the drive here repeatedly. Expecting the moment when he will have to leave yet coming out of his mouth the way it is, and looking away

I had a life,” I snap coldly, that biting ache inside of me like a wound opening up. I stand to stare out the window at that familiar ocean view in the distance, but it brings me no sense of peace like it used to. Instead, I feel like I’m in a prison, in a place that

inner deep hurt, anger, instinctively moving to reject him, but I stay put. Some little tiny part of me still wanting him close even if my self-defensive side has kicked in. “If you kept going on the way you were, then I’m scared about where you would have ended up. Sophs, the city is a dangerous place and you have so much to learn. You’re naïve at the best of times, oblivious to how many stupid situations you put yourself in and it doesn’t bear thinking about how many close calls you’ve had already.” He turns me back to him with a slow even movement. The stubborn lift of my chin hides the deeper terrifying fear gripping me, building up from my toes as it tries to slowly consume and claw my insides into oblivion. Anger waivers between sadness and panic attack, unsure which way it’s going to turn and clinging