The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

I’ll hurt her; I’ll inflict pain on my girl in the worst possible way. But then, it’s not the same kind of pain. We have never really begun, and her love for me isn’t exactly clear cut, or black and white in the slightest. We have never explored it at all, and it could be nothing more than a dependency because of her past, because of what I have been to her when she needed that strength in someone else, and we might not even work. There is no guarantee that moving us from this to lovers would be successful, in fact, the last weeks have shown me that adding love and lust to this mix makes Sophie and I fight a hell of a lot more than we ever did. That we’re being hauled apart by it.

We have a bond that runs deep, and I should leave it alone, keep what we have and not chance losing us for some sexual gratitude and what ifs. I need to work on getting us past this, without altering or ruining what we have. She needs me to be the friend I have always been, who guides her on the right path and sticks by her when she needs him. That is my purpose in life; to protect her from all things. Even me.

I need her in my life, she’s my sweet girl, she needs cherishing, and I would die if anything happened to her. I swore to always take care of her and protect her and I wouldn’t be doing that if I became a guy who led her into an affair to satisfy his own needs. She’s worth more than sex, and lust, and I couldn’t make her happy if we destroyed another girl in the process of exploring what we feel. It’s sordid and messy and Sophie should never be the outcome of something so shitty. She’s too pure a soul to carry that kind of guilt.

Surely, if I loved her the right way then I wouldn’t be so confused?

My heart is aching, head in doubt and seeing them appear at the door of the bar so suddenly, only strengthens my decision in this moment. Standing side by side, Natasha clinging onto Sophie like a lost waif and looking incredibly vulnerable in all of this. It only twists the knife harder in my chest and makes it near impossible to breathe properly.

Sophie in a nutshell is true strength and beauty in one girl, determined to never be broken by anyone. Fiercely independent at times and has the ability to overcome anything life throws at her. She’s tough, she bounces back, and she listens to reason and logic eventually. She moves on and heals. She’s done it in worse things than this.

Natasha, however, is fragile innocence, uncertain in life and needs to be cared for, so timid and always looking to me to shelter her, take control and make our life decisions. She hasn’t got the inner strength or confidence Sophs has, and I know which girl will suffer more if I choose. I haven’t been fair to her in all of this at all.

I cut her loose after Sophie told me she loved me, in a bid to give myself breathing space and I have focused all my energy on Sophie ever since. Have discarded someone I love; someone I care about to be selfish and focus on everything else and every other outcome. It’s why she’s become so needy and touchy and keeps calling and showing up. Cries for my attention because she’s not coping. Whereas Sophs, cut me off for weeks, and showed so much more strength in her ability to deal with this. Maybe her plan was the right one. To cool off apart until she got over it and then we could go back to before.

I haven’t put Natasha’s needs or feelings in this equation at all, and she looks so small and childlike next to Sophs in this moment. She looks like a girl who wouldn’t bounce back from this kind of heartbreak and if I am not one hundred percent sure that I do not want her, then I would be all kinds of a bastard to discard her so cruelly. I would crumble her to dust the way my mom did, and I just can’t. I need to give my relationship one last go.

Sophie catches my eye, looking tall and sexy in her heels and that killer dress, and it only serves to stomach punch me cruelly. She’s insanely hot tonight, fucking my head and my libido up, even more so now I’m drunk as hell. I know that’s what this is, all this swirling tonight in my pants and my head, and I smile impulsively to mask my thoughts. A basic carnal need, lust, and sex. I want her, I want to do things to her that I should never associate with the girl who clung to me through years of therapy and healing from sexual abuse.

It’s wrong on so many levels. She’s beautiful, sexual, perfect in every way. The ultimate fantasy for me now that I have allowed myself to see her as she is. It doesn’t make it right and the unknown of what it could be between us is only fogging this more. For all I know, sex between us could be awful, and I’ve built her up in my head into a fantasy that I should know will never match up.

get boring. You don’t discard the broken, you fix it. That’s what my mom always

know what I need to do now, minds made up, logic prevailing over all the weird aching pain in my heart. I push off and head to them instead, to bridge the gap, eyes searching both girls impulsively, lightheaded and woozy. I need to put everything back in

and work through how she feels, how I feel. We can get past it, because we are stronger than

can read me never fails her, and my skill at reading her equally is killing me. I know how she is,

kind of way. It was always going to cause damage. Today only reminded me of how good Sophie and I are as best friends, and how much I need things to stay this

have to do better. She never asked for any of this at all and

me, she never did, and she has no idea what I’m thinking or what I’m going to say to her. I can tell by her nervous manner. She leans in so she’s within my breathing space, her sweet spicy perfume, so familiar and comforting in a vague way I guess, fear evident and a little misty eyed as though she might

audible over the club and it has the same effect as stabbing me in the chest. She knows how to make me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet, and it just instils that stubborn side to do better for her. I catch Sophie glaring at me over Tasha’s head and

my little cyclone. Sophie can be a demon when she feels cornered or hurt, and I am readying myself for some sort of physical backlash in this

have feelings for her, and now I’m undoing all of it. Fucked with her head and her heart for weeks, and it ends tonight. I hope she does hit me, because it will at least give me some sense of shame at

dancing down there to keep me occupied for the rest of my night.” She sounds cold and locked down, eyes narrowing in that gorgeous face, and her words slice me to the core. I frown at how much those words can actually kill me; the thought of her going down there

are, baby, deeper than

a booth, and nod at her to sit down when I catch her eye, lingering

doing the right thing for us. She looks afraid, even though she’s trying to hide it and I hate that I have this power over both of them, that this is the situation I find

of this. Looking at that beautiful face, filled with anger and fear, brimming in the depths and her wall coming up to lock me out. Hate that

of indecision. Our lives began falling apart in her bedroom that day and ever since we have hurt each other, fought, and drifted apart in new ways. We’ve crossed lines, made a mess

life, secure and safe under my protection and care, in the crook

talk to her, and then I’ll come find you.” I whisper quietly to her; the words feel like nails in my throat, but I keep reminding myself that I have to do this. I can’t

I’m a big girl who can handle it.” Frosty Sophie rears her head, eyes icing me out, face recovering to indifferent mask and she has no clue how deeply it wounds my heart to pull this

Mild panic rises within me, an ache of nausea and doubt so strong, trying to consume me and even my head