The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 114: 114

“You can have pizza and a milkshake.” Arrick adopts his no-nonsense fatherly tone. I have heard this a million times in the past and know I have zero energy for it. I can always argue the point later.

“Fine, but I want a chocolate sundae for dessert.” I add, suddenly picturing ice-cream in my mind’s eye. Preferably a very big mountain with a million toppings.

“Okay, for tonight, but you will be eating better if you’re staying here and there’s no arguing about it.” He pushes his chair in, moves his mat from the table and tosses it on the counter behind him.

“We’ll see.” I raise an eyebrow at him wickedly and he only sighs heavily. Still watching me eat as though he has never witnessed feeding time at the zoo, and I wonder if he wants to video it. Maybe it’s the fact he has never seen me put something moderately healthy in my mouth on purpose and is making sure it’s not an illusion.

“I know that look, Sophs, I’m not going to fold so easily anymore. I already know what you’re like to handle and this is not how it’s going to stay!” He challenges me, eye to eye.

“You know what you’re letting yourself in for then, therefore don’t expect any drastic changes to my eating habits.” I shrug stubbornly and pout a little in his direction. Waving my spoon his way and splashing watery yoghurt all over the place.

There’s a long silence for a moment as we stare each other out with lowered brows, a non-serious face-off before he sighs again. I can almost smell his defeat in the air and feel strangely smug.

“You’re going to make life hell for me, aren’t you?” He seems resigned to the fact and he has just realized how bad a life with me as a girlfriend might be. I wonder if he has had his first bout of second thoughts.

“Maybe. You chose this life, cowboy, so you better man up. You did say you would do anything for me!” I smirk and smile wider when he only sighs and shakes his head in defeat.

###Chapter 114

I yawn as I wander from the elevator into Arrick’s apartment, covering my mouth and dropping my oversized school bag on the floor by his coat rack in the entrance come dumping ground, for shoes. His jacket and sneakers are already there, and I can hear the soft strumming of a guitar as I wander around the little wall that conceals the elevator from his lounge area.

He is sat on the couch strumming his acoustic guitar, oblivious to my arrival and I stop and watch him for a moment with a huge smile splaying across my face. It’s been eons since he played his guitar and I reminisce warmly over how many times he has played to me. A little shiver of joy that the boy I loved is making a slow comeback. He looks amazingly sexy with it on his lap, strumming it while concentrating so hard on what he’s doing. He looks so at peace and not a single expression on that calm beautiful face.

It has been over three weeks of dating him and we are getting into a routine slowly, going out together, having fun and spending more nights together than apart. I left my friends from our Friday dinner and caught a cab here to wait for him as planned, but he has beaten me home after drinks with his own friends at a nearby bar. Sometimes we still do things apart, I still feel like I should be holding something back a little, not quite ready to fully throw myself at his mercy again, and he doesn’t complain when I ask for a night to do my own thing. Obviously, he still understands where I am at.

I slide off my flat pumps and discard my cardigan with my jacket, moving across to come upon him from behind so he won’t see me until I run my fingers over those large shoulders that just scream to be touched. These past weeks I’ve been braver about exploring that body when I cuddle up to him and discovered he has no boundaries in where he lets my hands roam. As long as it’s not down into his pants of course, which he is making sure is off-limits and things stay unheated.

Arrick pauses, looking up and seeing me smiling down at him, catches my face as I lean over and gives me an upside-down kiss, crazily molding our mouths and managing a very erotic bit of lip sucking that makes me giggle. I run my fingers over his face as I pull away and push my hair back behind my ears.

pulling it back onto his lap as I come around and sit beside him, curling my legs under me in my dress so I can get comfortable to listen. I loved nothing more than watching him play in my teens and cannot express the happiness at seeing him back to this after

dispersed in the last few weeks and too feel more like I used too, able to be myself around him for the most part, even with the silly squabbles and

notes as he tunes his guitar again, while I think back to all the songs he used to play well and suited his husky

ago when we were snowed in at a skiing lodge with no power and only warm beer and friends to get through the night. Arrick played this song to me when most were almost asleep or chilling by the log fire. I was haunted by the memory of how perfect that moment was for a long time after. Arrick

I wanted to kiss you. Moving in close without even thinking about it and telling myself I was drunk and being an idiot.” He frowns as he strums another couple of notes, eyes still on me and looking at me like he very much wants to kiss me now. All his subtle little tells showing and

head to one side and regard him as he starts to play softly on his

I put it down to a moment of stupidity, I tried to play it off as being alcohol-driven.” He shrugs nonchalantly and carries

me again, so I never thought that’s what you were doing.” I replay the moment, seeing it

so he can lean into me and kiss me fully on the mouth. Softly at first and then moving in against

starting to get to me. Not sure if I am ready to get more physical, but his lack of pushing any boundaries is making certain that I will never know unless we try.

tried to heat things up he breaks off and separates us, cooling it all back down right away. A part of me loves the fact that he is this considerate, and this is just his way of respecting me, taking care of me, but on the other hand, I want to feel whole, and capable of having a normal relationship. Part of me is afraid that he’ll get so used to this weird something, stuck between platonic and not, and we will never move further. I want the whole package; I want to feel like I did in the first moments of that night when

softly and calming himself down with a little space. I flop back on the couch and stare at the ceiling while listening to him, knowing it’s pointless

to be tuning his guitar. The alcohol I consumed at dinner with Christian

it’s Natasha. The woman has texted and called sporadically over the last couple of weeks; tearful long drawn out sobbing conversations and hour-long texts begging him to go see her. He hasn’t, but he tries to

squabbles about it in which I always say I am fine and no it’s not upsetting me, that I’m being an ass for the sake of it. He just seems to think it

of self-doubt, where he is trying to choose whether to answer or not and I can already tell, he will. To me it says it all. Saying nothing, I get up from the couch fast and storm over to the kitchen to look for food. If I am out of

chocolate and Pepsi he keeps for me, despite claiming he never would, and then rummaging for the box of snacks he dutifully keeps in the cupboard. I put some popcorn in the microwave and try to zone out as I hear his voice on the

me as much as it does. Tired of the little charade of the understanding girlfriend I have had to play for this long, even when she showed up that one time to

in the microwave, I walk past him without a backwards glance, chin in the air and the walk of a woman

about it. I have kept quiet long enough, acting like I am oblivious and never make a peep when she calls, in case it upsets her that I am here, but I am in no mood anymore. This has been

for being unnecessarily cruel, but I am not about to turn back and look. Nudging the bedroom door open with my hip as he

appears behind me, opening the handle and pushing the door open for me without removing his cell from his ear. I mutter some thanks under my breath and push on ahead, without turning his way. I wonder if he is going to follow me, wouldn’t be unlike him when I announce I am going to bed, but instead

miss that I was the one you always talked to.” He lowers his voice, I resist the urge to kick the door shut on him and block it out, but I can hear the microwave, reminding me of the popcorn and curse myself. I want to stay in here and rage and not have to walk past him again and face that disapproving look he gives me when I am being difficult. I hate that even now, he can still make me feel like a childish spoiled brat at times and

concept of what a dickhead

room for a moment, putting my food on the nightstand and killing time by turning on the tv, finding a movie to turn on low. It isn’t overly late, and we have no plans tonight, except to stay here and vegetate, as we have plans to meet his friends for bowling tomorrow night. Christian and Jenny are coming and Nathan too;

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