The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Arrick and I stand back and watch Emma and the baby being loaded into the ambulance, under the watchful eye of Jake, climbing in beside her, fussing around her and their baby, before waving our way as the doors shut and they are concealed from view.

Sylvana is in their home now; she came as soon as Arrick called, to be with her grandbabies, despite the live-in nanny, and now we are outside facing Emma’s house, across the road to give them all space. Excess to requirements and feeling completely surreal. Getting air from the craziness of the last hour of our lives and just taking it all in.

“I’m totally wired. I can’t believe she had the baby right there in front of us.” I beam, childishly happy as I grip Arrick’s arm, still bouncing around with the hyper energy that hit after the emotions cleared away. He grins at me indulgently, watching as I bop up and down like a giddy kid on a sugar high, and runs a hand down the back of my hair affectionately with his opposite hand.

“It’s the adrenaline, you’re on a high. I always feel that way after a fight. You’ll probably crash soon and sleep the best you have in a while. It was gross, but pretty amazing. Not sure I’ll be able to look at Emma in quite the same way though.” He slides his arm out of my embrace and turns me slowly to him. “Maybe you should think about getting home and getting cleaned up.” He gestures down the soggy mess of my clothes, bringing me back to the fact I am covered in birthing fluids and not exactly feeling at my most comfortable. I’d forgotten all about it in the excitement, with the arrival of medics and all the fluffing about with them.

“Yeah... Not exactly a crowning glory moment.” I try to peel my dress away and think better of it, lifting my hands in disgust instead, screwing up my face with a grimace at the sodden mess, wondering if something like this will wash out of Louis Vuitton. I love this black shift dress to death but don’t think I want to wear it ever again. “Thank God I have a shower in my bedroom that I can literally walk into and undress.” I giggle, aware I am probably never going to recover from this. Maybe my dress won’t either as I’m pretty sure it’s dry clean only.

laughs at me, leaning in to catch me on the forehead with a parting kiss as I glance down once more at the ickiness, then look up suddenly with his hand sliding onto my arm. It means we collide nose to nose with mismatched timing. There’s an awkward moment as we chuckle, laugh it off stupidly and try to ignore the weird sizzling tension that’s been there since the cuddle on the kitchen

I pause and hold my breath at the sudden soft contact that is totally unexpected. It’s almost chaste in its deliverance, but Arrick never aims for my mouth, he only ever has those two times, and they were definitely not innocent. He has always been a forehead, or temple, kind of kisser when it comes to showering me with affections, so I don’t know how to react. Tingles and waves of butterflies sweep through me and put me on high alert

between my palms in a flash and follow his retraction with a harder kiss. My mouth pressed to his in a show of bravado I really do not feel, heart hammering with my boldness. Pressing lips to his seems to flip some switch between us as Arrick moves back into me with more intent, mouth finding mine fully, if a little hesitantly, adjusting his position so he can kiss

close as humanly possible. It’s intense, yet not overly passionate; soft, almost inquisitive, feeling me out, feeling out what this does to him. Erupting a million sensations in me that make it clear that I’m completely and utterly in love with him and that no one has ever kissed me like this before with the same reaction. His other hand comes around my throat softly, travels along my jaw lightly, and cups my cheek. Mouths still locked and tongues probing sensually. There’s nervousness, yet also familiarity that makes this so damn good.

to stop this. Eyes locking on my mouth before he visibly swallows, looks completely torn and pulls away so that there’s more than inches between us. He seems to be rattled, clearly affected, just like I am. My breathing hitched, and my heart is pounding through my chest like it’s going to burst out of its own free will to make a break for

in agitation while trying to keep his distance. I step towards him instinctively, reaching for him, but he only moves back and hurts my feelings instantly. Same effect as stabbing me in the chest with

felt that right between us couldn’t be wrong in my eyes, and for a moment, I felt that Arrick wanted me as much as I want him. He was responding in every way and there

ripping my heart apart, and my head, and making me feel worthless. I blink back the tears in a bid to hide

quickly like a predictable timer going off. I hate that I am