The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

“It’s over… I can’t believe it’s over.” I gush at Christian as we stand by the wine glass display and help ourselves to a glass of white. The room fast filling with the audience as they exit the catwalk area and into the banquet with us; the designers have been pensively awaiting their arrival after each slot saw us put in here out of the way.

My slot was over almost three hours ago, and we have been in here sipping on wine and nervously picking at food, too uptight to even watch my fellow students’ collections from the wings. Not that I want to watch any of them, having had enough of them all year long and their incessant ass wipe ways. We had the room mostly to ourselves until the show ended, seeing as they all wanted to watch each other and root for their friends so now it’s filling up, the full force of anxiety hits me hard.

I grasp Christians arm tightly as the very obvious flow of important people come into the room in a stream like line. I recognize so many influential faces and the ones I don’t are most likely just as important.

God, I feel sick.

Christian pulls out his cell and turns it to me … Arry’s name flashing on screen and I know Christian has been sending him the odd sly text when he doesn’t think I’m looking. I didn’t even bring my cell; left it in my bedroom so I wouldn’t be tempted, and I don’t want to talk to him even now. Still furious with him and gutted that it’s done, it’s over now and he didn’t come here. No surprise showing up and it all being a huge joke, nope. Still no Arry and I don’t care about seeing him right now either. My heart is still experiencing the intense slice of pain at his name and I think that says it all.

“Answer or…?” Christian asks warily but my death glare only makes him slide it back in his jacket with a coy little smile that portrays a hint of fear. Christian knows all sides of me after two years of friendship. He knows when to step away from a battle to live to see another day.

My stomach gurgles with nerves and the pressure on my bladder from all the wine we have been sipping is making me uncomfortable. I need a few minutes to pull myself together before the swanning around with important guests begins. I tap him gently.

“Going to the ladies’ room back there where it’s cool. Hold this for me.” I hand him my glass and kiss him on the cheek automatically. Soothing his ruffled feathers over glaring at him.

to the back walkway between the function rooms.

here and not use the main ones out by the buffet room. I want solitude and five minutes to pull myself together. I need to draw some strength from somewhere and get my head back in the game. Let the wine I’ve consumed

face and apply a new pout of red lips before smoothing down my dress and heading out the door to get back to the party. Nerves are calmer, head clearer and I am

way in a rather dominant way and I double take him walking out from the shadows of the hall towards me. He seems to have been standing there waiting and I wonder if he followed me out here as

Shit.

between us outside the room I just left. He turns to me with a smile when he comes level and leaves me no real escape route as he makes himself a barrier in the space, back to where

a searing mark on my chest that makes me feel instantly nauseous and try not to jump back in reaction. Holding my breath when he rubs his fingers in the air, dropping

two years living with Arry have seriously softened my ability to bring up that cool outer wall and hide my natural instinct. Arry has been crushing my defenses for a long time and now they are practically non-existent.

student that our school excels at producing.” He’s talking at me, a little too close for my liking as I stand poised and rigid,

a lot to me” I sound feeble. Hands trembling as though a deeper instinct is telling me

your degree in Paris. This is something we rarely award and has to be an exceptional student.” He smiles widely clearly impressed with himself and I

on where I go from here. All year my focus has been getting to this point, so we can have our life back and yet here I stand, being offered a once in a lifetime opportunity to go further and my heart is sinking. I’ve done nothing but think about this for the past couple of weeks and yet, Paris is not where I want to be. Now faced with it as a reality,

try to find the best way to say I don’t want to stay. Paris

me. I don’t know how I managed to wedge myself in this way, but I somehow have, and he stops dead still, his skin still on my lips as I try not to visibly react. He rubs it across my mouth, and I know instantly that my gut feeling for days now was right. This is not appropriate or warranted at all. He shouldn’t be