The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Arrick hands me a glass of water in bed and sits down on the edge to look at me. He seems calmer than when we first got in and practically dumped me in here in a bid to high tail it to the bathroom. My boy is a bit of a germaphobe with certain things and vomit touching him seems to turn him from manly caretaker to cringing nauseated man child.

“Feeling better?” He smiles, looking fresh and clean from the very long shower in which he probably bleached his skin to death. It wasn’t exactly my crowning moment of sexiness, but I have a good boyfriend who didn’t say anything about me ruining his night or making him take his expensive jacket, shirt and pants and put them straight in a black bag as soon as he got in the bathroom.

“Much.” I smile and take a sip, now dressed in one of Arry’s t-shirts.

“I think we should have stayed home and let you fully recover.” He watches me drink a little then takes the glass when I hold it out to him and puts it on my bedside.

“I liked the sex… It was worth it, even if you now hate me.” I grin cheekily.

“It’s out with the jury right now.” Arrick visibly cringes and I can’t suppress the giggle as I imagine him replaying the horrific moment hot wet vomit hit him in the naked shoulder and ran down his arm. I should be mortified, but really, he has endured some crazy shit with me, and this isn’t the worst.

“You’re lame, it was just a little bit of sick.”

“Don’t!” He puts a hand over my mouth immediately and shakes his head, his pallor turning much paler and he looks like he may go straight back to the shower. I swipe his hand away, laughing at him; he is choosing his words carefully and I frown at him.

“Really? You think that’s worse than your cum…” I start but his hand is straight back over my mouth with a look that says stop talking.

“That was one time and you asked me to do it… Won’t be ever doing that again. It seemed wrong and like I didn’t respect you.” He’s referring to our moment of porn re-enactment after a particularly drunken night of kinky sex where he gave his all, over my boobs at my request. I wanted to try it and see what the fuss was about; it was sticky, not good and never again. Arrick looked mortified, that he would shoot his load all over me.

“I guess I was drunker than I thought.” I shrug turning conversation back to the topic to get that guilty look off his face. Arry gets weird about the strangest stuff and cumming on me is one of those things he is very touchy about. I don’t know why, he does it inside me every time we have sex and doesn’t seem to care.

“You know… Janetta… A couple of times, has made a comment here and there in passing lately, about … That maybe you might be…” Arrick becomes evasive, looking a little uncomfortably and it only peaks my nerves. He sort of half laughs and shakes his head as though he is being dumb, but it has all my red alerts lighting up.

“What?” I sound impatient.

“She said your appetite has changed, improved… Your sleeping more and a little bit tetchier with the moods. I have noticed you being more emotional than normal, hormones up and down and well, don’t take this the wrong way baby. Your ass and boobs are definitely a lot bigger this past month.”

“What are you getting at? What’s wrong with my ass? Are you telling me I am eating myself fat?” I almost cry at this, mood spiking and becoming irrationally tearful. In all the years I have known him, he has never ever mentioned my weight in any context.

“NO!” He holds his hands up defensively and at speed. Looking extremely evasive.

about possibilities. Like Janetta suggested.” he looks pale, nervous

I’m getting agitated with him, defensive over nothing. I don’t even know

tries to reach for

test? For

can handle something he really doesn’t want to.

“Arrick! What fucking test?”

comes out with it, straight faced, tight

this injection… No babies.

you might be. Isn’t it better to rule it out?”

drama queen, Arrick. It’s not a good quality in a guy.” I slide

God, I cannot even use the word even

different at all, except a little sick and dizzy. Okay right now a little hungry because I upchucked dinner and of course I’m tired. It’s been a long emotional

follows me and my temper

“WHAT?”

a little OTT but he’s annoying

“We’re not done talking…”

Ummm, yes, we are.

he’s finished but he’s hot on my heels as I get to the kitchen at speed, stopping to stare at me when I tug out an array of

almost every night, and the fact that I’m more emotional. You said it yourself. That living here has made things more strained and I have not been as happy, so maybe yeah. More emotional in general, but that’s not an issue when we go home. You overthink, it’s what you do. And

constructing while looking his way and rambling on to cover how short I was with him a moment ago. Arrick

of sex in like one day and it has never failed me yet. These past few months we spent a lot of time apart, so it’s less likely to have happened when you sum it up rationally, really. And I mean you know, we haven’t missed any birth control and I’m never late getting it either, so I’m fully covered in all ways and

sandwich is

me rather oddly, decidedly pale, and not really saying much. He’s in what I like to call ‘Arrick mode’ when that brain is dissecting life and worrying himself into a silent ulcer. Sometimes that head of his is a

rarely drink anymore so it makes sense that after being unwell I was a little more sensitive and got a little trashed, and we both know we do a lot kinkier stuff when we are drunk, right? Looser

watched you make a sandwich that consisted of four meats, jelly, peanut butter, cheese and pickles, baby, and then add chocolate sauce with marshmallows on top.” He looks at my plate with a grimace and

had a major craving for, like I normally do

I swan past him to try and head back to our room,

has that stubborn squared Carrero jaw going on and his eyes are very green. I’ve no chance of

and effort doing so. And you can clean up whatever mess I make