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.

hand sliding onto my arm. It

brushes his lips against mine instinctively. 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

pull away, doubts creeping in and crossing his face, as though realizing he shouldn’t be doing this, but I don’t let him. Caught up with how good it feels to be this way with him, to have this close intimacy, I catch his face 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

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

mine. He rubs it gently against the side of mine tenderly, like he isn’t actually ready 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.

eyeing me strangely as a war tramples through his brain. Running a hand through his hair 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

my eyes, and for a moment, I felt that Arrick wanted me as much as I want him. He

everything. I confuse things by doing this. I can’t do this to Tasha.” Arrick sighs heavily, eyes trained on mine, yet I can no longer look at him. He’s doing it again, ripping my heart apart, and my head, and

like your cheating this time! You broke up.” I snap at him, that inner hurt and anger surfacing quickly like a predictable timer going off. I hate that I am this pathetic at handling pain. It makes me feel childish and