The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Arrick pulls me with him to a nearby row of seats in the corner by the corridor doors; we have been going easy on alcohol
tonight, but we are probably both a lot more drunk than we intended to be. Caught up in the night and his friends, it’s easy to lose
track of what you consume until it hits you hard in one fell swoop. I’m feeling beyond tipsy, everything swaying softly and that
ultra-merry, ‘I am so drunk’, dream quality has me all giggly.
I’ve danced my legs off with Claire, seen Jenny for all of ten minutes when Nate swept in and dragged her away and haven’t
seen her since. I don’t doubt it’s all kisses and roses, seeing as he literally picked her up over his shoulder, hand on her ass and
took her off in the direction of the private VIP rooms. Neither has come back in hours, so I am going to assume they left together.
No doubt I will get a text sometime tomorrow with explanations at her disappearance and his. Christian sent me a dozen selfies
from his own little party for two, it seems they are drunk, in a hotel, and making effective use of an empty swimming pool.
I slump down on the seats and lean back, tired and fuzzy, glowing with the warm sensation of alcohol consumption and feeling
better down here away from the VIP lounge. We have not strayed back upstairs in almost three hours, and I get the distinct
impression he’s keeping us away from her, even though he hasn’t mentioned her.
I saw him check his cell a couple times when we were at the bar, I guess she has text him and I am trying not to let it get to me. I
know he didn’t respond to her, if it was even her at all, but I’m bit pissed that even here, seeing me with him, she still tries to get
between us. That I am letting her.
Let it go, for one night.
“We should think about heading home soon.” Arrick slides in beside me, leaning across me so he can get nose to nose and
angles in for a kiss. Far too appealing with that soft hazy drunk look on him, eyes heavy and lips ripe for smooching.
“Really? Are you tired, Mr. Carrero?” I smile sweetly, rubbing my nose against his as he teases me with an almost kiss, his
fingers coming to trace my lips gently. His eyes are focused on my mouth and the last half hour he hasn’t been able to keep his
hands off me. Most definitely getting the vibe he’s thinking about going home to get naked. I’m on board with that, he has my
body tingling with his attentions; gyrating and grinding into me on the dancefloor, fueling me with alcohol and letting me hang
around his neck, making out to slower songs has me more than eager. I’m completely relaxed, ready to take all my clothes off
and climb on top of him.
“Not tired, baby... Crazily horny for you, and thinking how good you look out of that dress.” He leans in the last millimeters and
kisses me seductively. Lips meeting mine perfectly, parting and easing his tongue against mine. Cradling my jaw in his hand and
pulling my body to him so he can run his free hand up my thigh and under the edge of my dress to cup under my butt. I moan

against him as his hot hand warms my skin on the cool seat, edging my body to his so that I mold against him, smiling when his
other hand skims my throat and across the curve of my breast teasingly and he squeezes.
“Get a fucking room!” The nasty bitchy tone makes us snap apart, and Arrick looks up over his shoulder to glare at the female
voice behind us. It isn’t a voice I know, and I’m surprised to see a random girl, I vaguely recognize, standing right beside us;
hands on hips and glaring at me icily. I try to place her face and can’t. Tall, slim with jet black hair and soulless grey eyes.
“Back off Miranda. Go back to wherever you came from and keep out of it!” Arrick snaps, still holding me close, hand back on my
throat gently, body still caging mine protectively.
“Your heartbroken ex-girlfriend doesn’t need you flaunting your hussy in her face, it’s fucking cruel, Arrick!” She sneers directly at
me, looks me up and down and snorts before dragging her eyes back to his face.
“Miranda, we stayed down here knowing she would stay up there... What else do you want me to do? We broke up... I moved
on with my life. I’m sorry that we move in the same circles, and I am not trying to hurt her, but I moved on.” Arrick stands up and
offers me his hand to move, obviously intending to avoid this kind of drama, but Miranda stands her ground. I can tell by his
posture that she’s getting to him on major levels but he’s trying to ignore her, keep the cool he’s famed for.
“It makes me sick watching you, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for her. It’s fucking incest! Dumping a sweetheart, for some
trampy little girl whose been trying to break you up for years under the guise of little sister. What the hell is wrong with you?” She
has a serious attitude when it comes to me, even though I don’t even know her; death glare and nasty vile scowls from behind
his back, aimed right at me with such clear hatred. My temper rises, but I know he won’t want me to react. He will want to deal
with this and keep things from escalating, so I bite my tongue and try to avoid looking at her. Trying to control that inner demon in
me as best as I can by squirming around and taking long steady breaths and counting to ten.
“What the fuck? This is nothing to do with you, so how about you back off and go console her, instead of starting shit here?”
Arrick yells at her, losing his temper faster than I even anticipated and I blink at him as he turns on her. Seeing really, the first tell-
tale signs that he’s a lot drunker than I thought and that does not bode well for her. All his normal controlled composure is a little
flighty when he’s like this.
“I’m her best friend and she’s been sobbing all night, because of you being unable to keep your hands off the tramp. What is she
Arrick? All of twelve? You threw away an amazing girl for some little whore, who clearly drops her pants on a whim.” She storms
forward to face him off, so close facially and spitting venom. I glare at her hatefully, so consumed with the urge to yell something
back and fighting every inch of myself. I sense the shift in his mood, the vibes of aggression building and stand up too. Ready to
either take her on or hold him back.

“Stay here, I’ll only be a minute.” Arrick turns to me snappily, leans into my face hoarsely, kissing me on the mouth and then
turns, catching the fiery girls arm and dragging her with him to a corner across the room aggressively. He turns on her and lets
her go and I can tell immediately, even from here, that he’s having a major go at her. He looks angry as hell; his mannerisms are
that of one very pissed Carrero and she seems to be yelling back at him, stupidly. My insides crumble and know that this is the
worst possible scenario for us, last thing we need is his mood set off while under the influence. I get an almost foreboding heavy
pit in my stomach. I sit down again shakily, watching with complete numbness; not sure what to feel about anything she said, or
the fact she has him murderous right now.
“Shock! Miranda and drama; funny how it’s always hand in hand.” Claire sits down beside me and nods her way, eyes trained on
them in the shadowy corner with absolutely no look of surprise. I’m relieved that I’m not sat alone and smile at her, some little
thanks. My stomach is churning, and my hands are shaking at that little scene.
“You know her well?” I ask out of curiosity and watch as Claire downs her drink in one go, a seasoned party girl.
“So, so. She used to come out occasionally with us when we did couple things; she dated Colin for a while. She’s a bit of a
poisonous one and I never got the relationship between her and Tash to be honest. Chalk and cheese. None of us ever really
warmed to her, so we were glad when Colin dumped her.” Claire throws back her short red hair off her eyes, casting a navy-blue
gaze at the woman with complete indifference.
“She’s her best friend?” I follow and try not to watch as Arrick is seemingly going crazy at her; he doesn’t look like him, frowning,
scowling, animated in whatever he’s saying, and she seems to be pushing all his anger buttons. I recoil internally, a pit of unease
at his being drunk and her setting him off, and try not to dwell on it.
“Yeah, probably the reason Tasha is now dressing like a whore and drinking her life into oblivion, while trying to make Arry
jealous. Sad that she took the unclassy route to break-upsville.” Claire twists her glass in her hand and sighs heavily. I turn
towards her with a snap of my head, and blink. Not sure what she means by that.
“Trying to make him jealous?” I blink again, looking from her then to Arry across the room; he’s still arguing, and then back at
Claire. He hasn’t mentioned anything about that, only ever said she was being mature and talking ‘pleasantries.’
“Yeah, you know. Showing up in Miami and trying to get Nate to sleep with her for a reaction. Low blow. She’s turned into a
fucking mess, and I think it’s that one there, who’s filling her head with this nonsense about making Arry jealous and shit.
Natasha was never that girl. I think her dad being sick has sent her over the edge.” She shrugs and throws me a supportive
grimace but pauses when she catches what I assume is an ashen expression on my face. I’m, openly staring at her with a
crushed look of complete betrayal.

I feel like someone has punched me in the stomach. I stare back across the room at him and suddenly feel sick with the fact he
hasn’t told me she was in Miami with him. A thousand things running through my head as tears sting my eyes, and I want to
physically wail. That he would even keep this from me, and that day in my apartment, when I felt like he was lying, or being
evasive. This is why! He was with her, there, without me! .... And he never said a single thing about it.
Why?
“She went to Miami?” my voice breaks as I stare at him, anger and betrayal ripping across my heart, a deep aching heaviness
that hurts so much I can barely breathe and hold my shit together. Tears stinging the backs of my eyes as I struggle to not react.
He always swore he would tell me everything, always did tell me everything, and now here I am finding out he spent all that time
in Miami, with her. His ex-girlfriend, who means nothing to him. In all the texts and calls and even when he came home...Never
once mentioned it.
“Shit...Sophie ...I thought he would have told you. I’m sorry. Nate mentioned it to Jase, and I assumed you knew.” Claire looks
distraught and stands up quickly. Suddenly uneasy, looking incredibly guilty and sheepish. “Fuck.... I’m going to go away before I
put anymore foot in my mouth and Arry strangles me. I’m sorry, Sophie.” Claire takes off, looking his way, and I realize it’s
because he’s coming back to me; Miranda shouting after him as he waves her away looking glacial.
I get up and turn away before he sees the tears threatening to spill down my face and take deep breaths to calm the rage
swirling inside of me. Completely devastated and feeling like I did back when he chose Natasha over me, once more. I want to
lash out at him, shake him. So consumed by devastation and trying so hard to not fall to bits in this club. My whole body is
shaking, and I am so close to lightheaded passing out.
I feel his hands on my waist and pull away from him instinctively, agony slicing through me as he tries to turn me. His touch
burning me painfully.
“Hey... Sophs? What’s wrong?” He turns me, but I shrug out of his arms defensively; not wanting his hands on me and refusing
to look him in the face. If I let loose, I may self-implode. It’s all bubbling up inside of me like a torrent of anger. So much going on
inside me, burning explosively and I shake my head at him, barely containing my outward calm. “Baby? ... What is it? Is it what
she said? Because you know that doesn’t mean any......” His face, looking so goddamn honest and endearing makes me snap
crazily.
“Why didn’t you tell me she came to Miami with you?” I bawl at him, yanking my hand free as he tries to lasso my wrist. Shoving
him away when he tries to catch me and feeling only worse when his sudden falling expression and paling pallor, tells me that it’s

true.
“I ... Who?... Sophie. I didn’t go with her, it’s not like that. She showed up in the last two days.” Arrick lifts his hands to brush my
hair back and I slap him away, fire coursing through my veins. Hating him with a passion that I never thought I would ever feel
again. That face that I love so much, right now is the last thing I want near me.
“So now you’re lying to me? Keeping secrets? After everything? Over her? Do you have any fucking idea what that does to me?”
the tears break down my face and I swipe them away angrily, glaring at him. Hating that he could make me feel this much pain
so easily. Again.
“No... I didn’t lie, I would have told you eventually .... Just not anytime soon while you’re still like this about her. You’re
overreacting about this.” Arrick drops his hands and moves away, equally riled, even though he should be groveling and not
acting like an asshole. It sets my teeth on edge, biting down to curb the tidal wave of tears behind the surface.
“Like this? Pissed because your ex-girlfriend came and spent two days with you when I wasn’t there?” I spit at him, seeing red,
jealousy eating my insides out, and a million stupid things running through my head. I wonder how much time they spent, how far
it went and if he did get jealous when she tried to hook up with Nate. So many insecure stupid little thoughts like a floodgate
ripping through my brain. He narrows his brows, taking on that icy distant look of emotionless cool.
“Jealous! ...Over nothing! I barely saw her Sophie. She showed up... I was busy with interviews and my fight; she got like three
minutes, at most, and then Nate fielded her elsewhere and left me to it. I didn’t see her alone at all. You’re being stupid. I don’t
need you starting on me too.” Arrick lifts his hands and makes an ‘arghh’ gesture, obviously still bristling from his fight with
Miranda and I’m getting the brunt because I’m being ‘difficult.
“I’m being stupid? Yet you’re the one who hid this from me?” I retort, shoving him in the abdomen because I’m fueled with so
much rage towards him it’s spewing out in aggression. That inner need to hurt people around me is barely contained and I am
trying so hard, aware of eyes nearby and around us, of strangers in this club seeing a little drunk domestic. Self-preservation
making me unable to fully react.
“I knew this is how you would be, so I never told you...Sue me for not wanting to fight! For knowing how irrational you get when
her name is even mentioned.” Arrick snaps; his tone has deepened angrily, that furrowed Carrero glare that has him looking
fierce and his jaw almost angular with rage. Intimidation at its finest yet it’s lost on me. I am so caught in my own pain that there’s
nothing but fury.

“You don’t think I have a right to feel insecure about her? That I shouldn’t trust you when it comes to her, because you are clearly
incapable of letting her go?” I snap in complete disbelief, tears filling my view and anger searing my heart.
“For fuck sakes.... No! Not when I have spent weeks doing everything I can to make you see that you’re who I want; you’re who I
love. I don’t know what else to do.... I can’t stand when you get like this.” His eyes on mine, deathly dark; in the shadows of the
club it’s hard to tell the color, but it’s obvious he is as angry at me as I am at him. In his stupid fucked up idiot head, and I can’t
believe he feels justified in this.
What planet are you from?
“You’re an asshole. Sometimes I hate you so much.” I push past him to walk away, too angry to stand here with him and bicker,
while he can’t see beyond his own nose, can’t see the pain he inflicts on my fragile heart, and he spins too.
“Probably, but you’re fucking unbearable sometimes. Fuck this shit. I’m going to get a drink... I’ll be at the bar with Nate, if you
decide to grow up.” Arrick storms off, looking like he would easily go twelve rounds with any idiot who got in his way and
disappears into the crowd in the direction of the bar. The tears hit my cheeks and I turn the other way, fighting myself on this and
trying to claw up my wall of numbness that died somewhere in the early days of being his. Heading to find a bathroom I will
myself to stop myself from falling apart.
I won’t let him hurt me again, not like this. Especially not over her.