The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 121

I can feel him staring at me as I try to think and impulsively throw a cushion at him in a bid to block him out, unable to have him look at me that way when I know I’m the one being mental. I’m suffocating inside, and my head is so crammed full of conflicting thoughts that I want to rip my brain out.

“Go away.” I snap childishly, tearfully, as the rage dies, and I start to get embarrassed and ashamed of the epic meltdown I just had. I should be apologizing, I know this, and he’s looking at me like I should know this, yet I can’t. There is that tiny little stubborn mini-me who wants to slap him about the head, shake some sense into him and tell him once and for all to make her disappear for me.

“Why the fuck are you punishing me for her calling? Am I answering the fucking phone, Sophie?” He’s getting more pissed by the second, fueled by my behavior and as much as I want to shake myself and tell myself to stop acting this way, I can’t. My heart’s breaking with everything that I have been thinking about in the last month. About sex, about her. Alcohol always makes me more irrational and less able to cope with this kind of shit, it’s why I got so much stronger in myself when I cut out drinking so much. I always end up this much of a mess when I drink, and Arrick always ends up like that.

It’s like the straight-thinking attentive part of him gets replaced with pig-headed and impulsive, quick to anger and a lot less lucid; and right now, we are not a good mix. We don’t gel well with each other when we are drunk and pissed off, we never did. He reminds me of Jake at his worst when he is like this. Jake can be an asshole when he’s drunk too and it’s about the only time I have ever seen him argue with Emma over pointless shit or ever made her cry.

Drunk Carreros are assholes!

“If you don’t know then I’m not telling you. Go away, leave me alone.” I sulk. Being juvenile, deflecting his question because I no longer have a straightforward answer that will hold any weight to explain my behavior. His eyes boring into me and cannot stand it anymore, unable to stay in this airless prison with him. I push past him to leave the room, but he only catches me by the waist and spins me to him.

“So, you get to turn psycho on me, and I’m just supposed to fucking guess? Or wait! Leave my own fucking apartment while you have a tantrum?” He snaps at me, gaining a push in the chest as I try to fight him off. Hating how he’s being, glaring at me with that green infused, cold deadpan of his and reigniting the angry part of me which had started to curl up and hide in shame.

“You always let her ruin everything.” I bawl at him, pushing harder when he only pulls me back for the second time. Not letting me go, refusing to let me storm off and walk away from this fight.

changed nothing. I wasn’t going to answer it. I wanted to fuck you, you are the only one stopping that.” He bites, anger rippling, face no longer calm and real angry Arry on show. I really don’t like it and the age-old

lounge without hands getting hold of me again, but he follows fast on my heels. In rage, dog

it is. A fuck … It’s sex, not exactly the be-all and end-all to a relationship. You are overreacting to this crazily.” He doesn’t exactly yell, he angrily snaps

the hell

to one stupid flick of a button that had revealed a whole porn menu on his TV box not so long ago. Head a tumbling mess of irrational thoughts and trying to piece together some sense in the crazy emotions consuming me. I’m hurt,

like four mates who stay here regularly, and they all download porn because they are guys and that’s what guys do. You want me to say I have never watched it? I have, big deal, and sex with Natasha isn’t relevant in any way. Sex with you … it was happening, Sophie, you are the only one who flipped out and stopped it. I don’t even get what we are even fighting about.” Arrick is yelling at me now, properly, the way I am yelling at him, completely oblivious to my tears, despite always claiming he can’t stand to see me cry. It just wounds me more in my crazily sensitive frame of mind and I feel real hate for him at the moment. Real blood boiling ‘I cannot stand to even look at you right now you fucking asshole kind’ of hate. It takes me by surprise that I can have this much

stop I could, and now you’re getting fucking angry at me. And I’m supposed to feel secure with you?” I sob loudly, wounded, confused, head full of nonsensical chaos and drunken stupidity clouding my thoughts. My words are like daggers, thrown with intent and poison at someone I don’t like very much in my current state. He reacts to the tone as much as what I say, narrowing his gaze icily, obviously feeling

throwing them across the room angrily as though curbing the urge to hit something,

walk out and leave him here. Before the tidal

to have to constantly backtrack over this shit.” Arrick sways on his feet again, runs a hand through his hair and sits down on the nearest chair, putting his head between his hands as though he either realizes he’s too drunk or maybe to try and calm his temper. “I can’t deal with you like this. We’re both drunk and angry. I’ll sleep out here. Just go to bed.” He snaps at me coldly, clear he’s decided he doesn’t want to put up with juvenile Sophie and her meltdown anymore. Sitting back to stare right at me with no level of emotion on show and a dismissive wave of his fingers, like I’m

up with his ex fucking girlfriend

he never seemed happy. The tidbits of their gossip

longer knows me at all. Dumbfounded that he thinks I can be so stupid, and it makes me worse as I hate him so much

If you left her for me … is that what’s going to happen to us?” I sob pathetically, glaring at him insecurely, my heart shredding with this possibility. Not even sure what I need him to say anymore, now my brain is on a one-way road to complete

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