The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

I’m quick to haul on skinny jeans and then carefully take the sneakers he holds out to me so that we don’t graze fingers. I pull them on over bare feet before standing back up with a deflated sigh. Arrick slings my bag on his shoulder and slides my phone into the front pocket of his hoody, making it clear he’s giving me no chance of escape.

“Don’t make me go back home, Arry.” I try one more time, appealing to his softer side with doe eyes and a wobbling voice, but he only catches hold of my upper arm as he passes me and yanks me with him.

“Don’t. I am in no fucking mood to have Bambi eyes and begging from you. It won’t work on me this time, Sophie. I am so beyond livid with you; I really would consider fucking spanking you.” He hauls me at speed to the front door, stopping as we get to it and turning back on me. “Keys?” He commands at me expectantly.

I lean out to the mantle near the door and point at the vase where Camilla told me she left me a set of keys. Arrick leans over, tips them out and scoops them up fast, opening the door, he ushers me out into the carpeted hall. Still holding me captive while he pulls the door shut, locks up and posts them back through the slot without hesitation.

“You won’t be coming back here, so you don’t need them. Don’t say a word.” He glares at my gaping mouth and hauls me with him. I was ready to object, hating who he is at the moment, this version has never been him.

It’s as though the wall of fear has slowly been trickling down as anger builds inside of me. The realization that he’s still treating me like a child, after everything, and is giving me orders like he owns me. This isn’t the Arrick I know and adore, the Arrick I love! This is more of a boorish Jake Carrero move right here, and I won’t stand for it; I won’t stand for bully tactics and using his strength and aggression against me.

my bag, yanking me closer to control me, but I just up the gear to fight him harder, properly twisting and pushing at

snap. Pushing me back hard and marching me into a wall with fierceness, until he pins me there with my wrists at each side of my head,

overtaken with green flecks and he is beyond furious. Angrier than I think I have ever seen him in his life, ever. I swallow hard. “Stop fighting me. I’m not about to let you go, so stop fucking trying.” He yells at me, his face crumbling when I burst into instant wounded tears at this

rests his forehead against me gently this time, and the fight seems to seep out of him at a rate of knots. A complete change in manner and vibes as he returns to that gentle boy I

over, pleading, to get me to stop. “Sophs, I’ve been worried sick, searching every haunt you used to use in the city all day, banging doors and threatening fuck heads, trying to find you.” He lifts his face up so there is a little distance between us and drops my wrists. My hands free from the sudden release, I instinctively use one to rub the other, even though he didn’t really hurt me. He’s still close enough to keep me held in place,

calmer and more like himself. Those grounding eyes, only inches from mine and so easily familiar, like a calling home that only reminds me of how much it hurts to see him. He flickers back up to meet mine and there is something completely unreadable in

in a way I can’t translate, I can’t read him at all. My heart’s still pounding through my chest, and his proximity is suddenly suffocating

certain he’s going to kiss me, even though sense tells

from under me, Sophs, and then cut me off. Do you have any idea what that did to me?” He paces in the dimly lit hall, while I stay against the wall, dumbfounded, watching him in confusion and no clue what to say to him. I shake my head in answer as he lets out a short breath, staring back at me before slumping back against the opposite wall so we’re directly across from each other. “I don’t know how I feel anymore... About you... About Tasha. I only know

understand,” I whisper softly, my voice ravaged and trying so hard to

you told me you loved me, it freaked me out. It sent me into a crazy panic at first, with so many reasons that it’s just plain immoral and wrong, but then after...... After, when you wouldn’t let me talk to you, to see you. When I kept questioning why I even kissed you, that’s when it hit home the hardest. That maybe