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.

I haul my arm harshly, using my other to pry his fingers off as I wriggle and squirm in a bid to free myself. Arrick drops my bag, yanking me closer to control me, but

seems to snap. Pushing me back hard and marching

fighting me. I’m not about to let you go, so stop fucking trying.” He yells at me, his

and the fight seems to seep out of him at a rate of knots. A complete change

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, and as his fingers come up to cradle my face, I find myself inhaling

that he’s 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

life?” Arrick’s turns soft and torn, and I’m not entirely sure if he’s still talking about me running from home. He’s looking at me in a way I can’t translate, I can’t read him at all. My heart’s still pounding through

hold my breath, almost certain he’s going to kiss me, even though sense tells me that’s utterly ridiculous. He stops, almost grazing my lips, noses missing by millimeters, indecision flitting across his face and then he

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 that when you cut me off, I couldn’t function. That when I kissed you, everything

trying so hard

kid sister, that when 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 ….” He trails of as he shoves himself off the wall again and is back to pacing, rubbing his hands through his hair and seemingly unable to settle on one emotion. I stay silent, heart pounding faster, palms sweating as it dawns on me that Arrick is trying to tell me he might care for me, the same way I care for him. That maybe, possibly, there is something there between us, and it hasn’t always been