The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

“Hey beautiful, you’re early, I was going to come meet you. How was it?” Arry comes out of the kitchen as I walk through the front door, bag in hand, and have to smile through my crappy mood. I don’t want him to know how awful today really was. I don’t want him thinking some bitch girls are victimizing me already and that coming here was a mistake. He has moved heaven and earth to get us here before I started the term, got our apartment ready, pushed a lot of his own stuff back so he could be here with me for the first weeks of life in Paris. I just don’t want him thinking it was all for nothing, not yet anyway, not in the first few days when it all might settle down and I will just stress him out for no reason.

He would hate knowing that these girls have just spent a day ostracizing me and throwing bitchy looks and snide remarks all day long. My tutors were not really any help, turning a blind eye and I could see even among them, they have their own little clique groups and are no better than the students. It’s a huge culture shock compared to my last school, where all the students tended to form little friendly groups and keep out of each other’s way; or maybe, I guess I just didn’t see it happening as I had friends of my own to keep me oblivious to this kind of thing, and here, I have no one.

“They let us leave when we were done with an end of day assignment, and you know me, I’m a fast worker. It was okay, weird being the new kid again. Will take some getting used to and a little time to settle in and make friends.” I try for upbeat and just sound deflated and exhausted. Arry narrows his brows on me and crosses to meet me, helping me take off my bag and jacket and hangs them up for me as I slide my boots off. I can feel his eyes on me, reading me, analyzing me like he always does and try not to show anything that will worry him.

“You sound tired and fed up. Something happen today?” His eyes are boring a hole in my head and I shrug and make a move to walk past him, but he catches me and draws me into his body from behind, wrapping his arms around me and snuggling close so his mouth is right by my ear.

“Talk to me… I can tell your upset, baby.” Husky, soothing tones that make me melt. Covering his arms with mine and squeeze him tight.

“It’s nothing… first day blues. Missing home, missing my friends. It’s just new, different, and so far from what I’m used to.”

Nothing ever feels like this, his circle of safety and protection. His way of making me feel whole. I close my eyes and savor the tight embrace as all of the days stress and frustration ooze right out of me like hot liquid. This was always his gift, even back when I was a kid and so crazy messed up inside my own head. He would be my anchor and hold me tight until it all felt better again. He’s the only person who ever could do this for me.

“You’ll get there. It’s normal to feel like this. So much has changed by coming here, losing your circle of familiarity. We will get through this and settle quicker than you realize.” He lets me loose and takes my hand in his instead, entangling fingers securely, guiding me with him into the apartment, past the lounge and down the hall to the kitchen. I watch him walk slightly in front of me and admire his ease; even in a new world, nothing phases him about being in a strange place.

Arry loves cooking when he has down time and I can smell that he’s probably been at it while I have been gone. He has the table set for us and it looks so pretty it makes me smile. The boy is well versed in romance and beautiful candle lit table set ups. He knows how to make me go weak every day.

“What about you? How was your day?” I smile at him when he hits me with a quick peck on the mouth and pulls out a chair to maneuver me into, sliding me in smoothly when I sit down and wanders over to the worktops where he has plates sitting. He begins dishing with his back to me.

“Weird… Can’t remember the last time I had nothing at all to do in a day and was here alone. Normally we’re together or we’re at work. It was kinda good to be a house husband.” He turns and winks at me and I giggle. Not that he really is a house husband; we have a cleaner here who comes every day and she’s supposed to cook our meals too, but I guess Arry decided to take over today. Not that I’m complaining, I could only wish I cooked like he does. I have still never mastered more than the basics, even though he is a patient teacher.

his cooking lessons are we somehow always end up having sex on the worktop before we ever finish a recipe. Just can’t seem to cohabit too close a space

it… I want to see you back in a gym before you lose those abs.” I raise a non-serious brow at him as he comes back with a loaded plate of carbonara, my favorite, and a bowl of garlic bread and puts mine in front of me. He comes back with his a moment later and

hot, or you’re dumping my ass.” He grins at me and I nod as though I am completely serious, not that I am. Even if Arry gained weight, got slobby,

long as you know it.” I point my fork at him and then dig in with the

nice couple today when I went looking for a bread shop. They own the bakery a couple streets away, asked if we want to meet up at a bar on Saturday night. I said I would ask you and see him tomorrow when I go to pick up some baguettes.” Arry raises his brows at me and I smile, awed at his ability to just make friends wherever he goes. It’s effortless, like breathing and it always amazes me that people just respond to him. Everyone wants to be friends

while I spent a day with fellow students and

Go figures.

English, then it sounds like a date.” I carry on eating, feeling better, less shitty. Food is the answer to all

you were finding the language a challenge and yes, they both speak fluent American, they’re British, English, I think.” Arry is digging into his food, his feet under the

the table to grab my foot and pull it up on his lap, sliding his warm hand around it and kneading my sole firmly. Arry’s

across the kitchen and he slides up to go retrieve it, leaving my foot to fall

a pained expression, a little eyebrow twitch and a grimace that worries me. I try to not listen in, but he’s sat right opposite me and hardly trying to be quiet. Arry has

frown that’s more obvious and I wonder what he’s talking

you later. Sort that out for me, have Amanda email me the details.” He frowns my way again and this time I definitely know something is up. He has that look on his face, the whole ‘she’s not going to like this’ expression and I lower my fork to stare at him, trying to

hate. He’s working the ‘softly touching’ angle to

swipes his cell and puts it on the table beside his plate carefully, calmly, and I know this is not good. He’s being deliberate and delaying so he can choose his words and I yank

because he knows I hate when he just skirts around something. I would rather he did it quick, like pulling off a band aid and not the Arry method of beating around the

in the making. I own a third of

how dumb I’m being. I’m not a kid. I’m twenty, almost twenty-one, he’s not my dad, he’s my boyfriend and I need to stop clinging to him to always do everything for me. Other women can survive separations from their men for a few days,

make it a little longer; it’s like eight hours one way. I can fly the red eye through the night and cut down how long I’m gone.” He’s watching me, poised, and waiting for my reaction and my eyes well up. Throat aching because I don’t want him to leave me so soon. This is all new and everyone here