The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Arrick’s POV

~ After the nightclub ~

I sink back on the couch and stare into the semi darkness, cradling my second coffee since we got back here, and try like hell to sober myself up. Head swimming and sinking slowly into the softness of my couch, while trying to get a grip on reality. All I have done since we got home is sit here and try to pull all the shit in my head back together. Try to make sense of the entire night that pretty much went to crap from the moment I downed the first vodka.

Drink and I are not friends right now, and if I have any chance of salvaging anything, then I need to sober up fast. Sophie is in the shower, she headed there as soon as we got back, and I sat here waiting for her. I need to talk to her, to figure some of this out and I have no clue what to do. Tonight, taught me a couple of things.

One. That drunk, I feel about Sophie the way she feels about me and I want her in every way; physically, mentally, every way, but when I’m sober that inability to cross the emotional line with her wins me round and puts me back on the side of being unable to go there. Sober I let my head rule and my heart goes back into submission.

Two. I also care about Natasha, and there is enough doubt in me, that we are falling apart due to relationship neglect to not dismiss her entirely. There is a fear that if I go down the route with Sophie, I will regret and miss what I had with Tasha. That I will realize I love her and ruin three lives for one fleeting moment of selfishness.

Three. I’m a shit head of epic proportions, because I am literally unable to pick a girl, pick a feeling, and fucking stick with it. I was always decisive in life and did the right thing, but when faced with this dilemma, I have turned into a giant asshole with no ability to choose anything anymore. I do not know which way to go in any direction. I thought I made a choice tonight and it felt final. Then Sophie and that guy, and here we are. I ran off leaving Tasha in a nightclub with my phone and wallet somehow, and all I can think about is how much of an asshole that makes me, yet, when I was doing it I gave not one shit about it. So sick of this overwhelming guilt that consumes me all the time.

Sophie appears in the space in front of me, wrapped in my bathrobe, clean and damp haired from the shower she took. She’s been a while; god knows exactly how long in there as I was lost in my own head and trying to get less drunk with a shit ton of coffee. She looks like her normal young self; innocent and fragile, and I my insides sink lower.

“You feeling any better?” Her eyes meet mine and for once I feel nothing but overwhelming shitness at this whole sorry situation. I wish I could be transported anywhere but here and not have to deal with this at all.

“I’m okay. You can stop worrying about me.... Did you call Natasha?” She gazes at me pointedly, another wave of utter shitness at my behavior and another reason to sink lower in my seat. Ashamed of who I am right now.

“I’ve lost my phone, somewhere between smashing some asshole, and running out of a club after you.” I shrug, assuming when I hauled my jacket up, the contents I stupidly left behind were my phone and wallet, containing my key card to enter my own apartment. If Natasha has them then she might save me the job of cancelling all my cards and cell and having to get all new tomorrow morning. I don’t want to even think about it until I’ve slept.

“I’m hoping she has it and has sense to realize I followed you.” I lean forward and deposit my mug on the table, second coffee making me nauseous and at least I’m not as drunk as I was, although I’m still pretty far gone by normal standards. Heads still surreal, room still sliding like I’m at sea, and insides doing a rhumba. I glance up, catching Sophie’s eyes on my hands and look down at them too. Bruised up, cut and messy from bare knuckle punches. It doesn’t hurt anywhere near as bad as they look at all, but just the sight of them reminds me how close I was to doing the worst thing I would have ever done in my life. I get up and shake them, as though trying to also shake that thought away.

“I wanted to kill him.” I catch her eyes again, stating the obvious with only seriousness in my tone.

“I saw.” She frowns, looking emotional as her eyes glaze a little, and it cuts me to the quick that it’s affected her this much. That he’s hurt her this way.

“I would have killed him, Sophs, if you hadn’t gotten in the way, if you hadn’t stood between us. I’ve never wanted to hurt someone so badly in my life and I didn’t care about the outcome at all.” I look at my hands again, ashamed to admit that I would have gone that far, lost so much control, but for her I would do it all over again. “What’s happening to us?”

I look up at her forlornly, consumed with everything of the past weeks and so out of my depths in every way when it comes to her anymore. We were always something special, but this, us, what we are now, it’s falling apart around me.

“I don’t know.” Tears fill her eyes and I just want to wipe them away, aching for how we used to be. Before this mess. Knowing her tears are for the same reason my heart is bleeding, we both know that we’re losing each other over this whole thing and it’s agony.

“It used to be easy. Even when I came and pushed off assholes hassling you, it never felt like tonight did. Why did we have to change? Why did how this feels have to change?” The emotion overtakes me, and I’m emotionally wrecked and torn up inside. Longing for an easier time between us, when my life was straightforward, and no one was getting hurt. When I didn’t have to choose or dissect our lives and what we all mean to one another.

to answer the questions than I am. Our situation is hopeless and there are no easy answers or resolutions to any

told her I wanted to try again, start over with dating again, go back to the start. I made my choice. I wasn’t going to deal with any of this shit between us anymore. I was going to fix this, put it all back to how it should be. Safe and neatly labeled as untouchable, platonic, and someone I will always protect. I shouldn’t see you as anything other than that.” I search her face hopelessly for the answers and break inside when all I get are tears washing down her cheeks so hopelessly. I hate when she cries, it rips me apart in every kind of way and more so

to talk, to explain. Seeing another guy touching you, Sophs... Kissing you. I didn’t know if it was wanted, or not at first.” I swallow hard, moving towards her without even thinking about what ‘am doing, she’s too inviting standing there, the subject too heart wrenching for me, and I want to be near her. Inhale the sweet scent that is all Sophie and feel the way she makes me feel when she’s close. Like everything can be okay again.

used to when I showed up at a club and chased them off. It felt like I couldn’t breathe, that you were ripping my heart out by kissing some other guy and I saw red.” I inch closer, needing the calm she always brings me, even when things are this messed up. I need the magic spell she weaves around me with her touch alone, the silence

And that’s fucked up. How can I be that way with you, after everything? And still tell her that I want to make this work?” My voice breaks, so much confusion even now, still after all this time to get used to this. It wrecks what is left of my sanity, that I am no further forward in any sense.

and cheek. The perfection of her and how amidst all the chaos, she’s like a gentle warm island with a soft breeze that gives me a moment to be still. If I could stay here like this forever, then maybe life would be okay

of the pain that’s thrown her way in life, for men to want to abuse her,

and so very still. She looks ethereal like this, free of makeup, hair damp and hanging in waves she normally dries out straight. It reminds me of how wavy her long hair was when I met her before

breathe her in, all the scents of the shower and that most alluring smell

gaze at those pouted soft lips, made for kissing, the sensual curve and gentle color. Aching to have the courage to let

strength to stop this time. Sophie looks up at me; determination flashes across that face and she leans up

wave of lust and longing take over and push this to something more than a kiss that means something. Straining with everything in me to keep control, but she feels too good, and booze always pushes my sex drive to the forefront. Soft, exploratory, gentle caressing of lips and mouths, probing of tongue, my hands moving to her hair as I sweep it back out of his way. I angle in further to get a better mold to her mouth, so I can show her the art of really kissing her in a way that I want to, aware

all ways, killing every other thought in my head. Sophie’s hands glide up my body, erupting a million sensations and cravings within and I immediately feel the arousal in my pants growing. Her touch has a way of igniting the longing effortlessly as though she was made with only the purpose to fire me up. She roams beyond my pecks; hands skirting my shoulders as I keep kissing

badly that I’m almost vibrating from it. I want sex

her height this way. Sophies body signals and roaming hands are

collarbone. Sophie inhales sharply as the robe slides, the tie loosening and slips further down to stop at the crook of her elbows, opening fully and I am given a full unobstructed view of her breasts and abdomen from here. Her lower body concealed by mine, but it’s more than enough

own every part of this, the completion I might find in her. I kiss her again, losing the last ounces of that self-control and kissing her with fiery lust. Aching so strong at seeing what I can devour, that

mouths are forcefully connected. I want to kiss her into submission, have her panting and longing with every ounce of her body, the way she’s making me feel. I want her to want me as much as I want her, with the intensity,

need in me to do so. My body on fire and urges for sex, driving me crazy. I let my hands loose to trace her spine, her naked skin, and ignite a fire in my hands. Head blacking out all but her, my

leaves me wanting more, like an addiction I will never curb. I slide my hands into the open robe and down her curves, to pull it apart further, intent on one purpose alone. Getting us both naked and being inside of her. I want her, in every way and tonight I am going to have her. Every inch of that satin skin around me and give up my entire mind to her.

this way my head can let go a little more, but I don’t care. I’m in the moment for once, and it feels like where I always should be. I stop kissing her to trace my mouth up her neck, to kiss away the marks of that asshole and silently promise to never let it happen again. I push her hair aside to suck and nibble lower, across her collarbone and the soft rise of her body, leading way to her

groan at the way my dick almost tries to rip through my

drags us apart quickly, spinning to see her standing in the open elevator in wide eyed heartbreak. I let go of Sophie and go into some sort of silent shock, poised and

this is actually happening. My head takes a second to really process the fact that she is standing there, holding my cell and wallet, which is probably how

me, other than see from the corner of my eye that she is fixing her robe. I can’t even look at her in this moment. All three of us silent in this agonizing second of pause. Guilt crashing in, after delayed shock; consuming my insides and making every part of me wake up in agonizing reality and

finally re-engaging. She throws my phone and wallet loudly on the floor out of the elevator between

from arousal and her lips kiss swollen. I can’t deny my body still reacts to

I’m even going to say or what I want,

and sober brain overtaking. Crossing the floor in seconds and slamming a hand between them so I can squeeze through; I’m not the same asshole my father was when my mom caught him having an affair. He didn’t chase her at first, he didn’t tell her he was sorry, and it almost ended her. I’m

much, except let her vent her heartbreak. The doors are shut, and I just left Sophie in my apartment without another word, to chase Natasha and I honestly have no clue as to how I should feel about that. Instant regret that I followed when I should have stayed. Everything inside of me bitterly hating myself that I left her and how that’s going to look to her. I don’t react to the slap, my brain upstairs on running out on her, guilt hitting hard, yet here I am, and I

back against one wall opposite her and bury my face in my hands as I try to get a grip on this reality. It still feels like a bad dream and my head is still whirring and spinning as I try to catch up. I can