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.

Arry on show. I really don’t like it and

and I manage to dart away, enough to escape back to the lounge without hands getting hold of me again, but

he

hell are

It clearly mattered when you weren’t getting enough of it from her. Is that why you have a constant porn channel on your TV?” I throw at him, thinking back 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, angry, yet also in pain, like he’s wrenching my

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

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

fucking control over and no intention of answering.” Arrick swoops down and pulls off his sneakers, throwing them across the room angrily as though curbing the urge to hit something,

or her … I’m past caring anymore.” I bite back cruelly, heart ripping in two and I turn to look for my shoes so I can walk out and leave him here. Before the tidal wave of emotion, soaring up overwhelms me and I can no longer function with the pain he can cause

exhausting 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

up with his ex fucking girlfriend once

of the things the girls said about his sex life with Natasha, about how he never seemed happy. The

He looks up at me completely baffled as to how my mind works, like he no longer knows me at all. Dumbfounded that he thinks I can be so stupid, and it

… is that what’s going to happen to us?” I sob pathetically, glaring at him insecurely, my heart shredding with this

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