The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

He seems to be liking the fact that I have been this way all week; amused that the cool in control brother, for once, is the one
acting like a bear with a sore head and having erratic juvenile flare ups of temper. You know, being Jake.
Smug asshole.
“Arry is in the good old ‘overthink, over analyze, and stress himself into an early ulcer’ mode. You know nothing we say will get
his head together... he’s a stubborn ass hole when it comes to figuring shit out.” My brother smirks at me again, on his feet now
too and shoulder shoves me as he walks past. Straightening his tie before losing patience and pulling it off in agitation, now the
meeting is adjourned. I didn’t even bother with one today, after wrestling in the mirror with one this morning for twenty minutes, I
threw it across the couch and left it at home. Agitation is becoming my new best friend and ties are something I rarely do.
“None of any of this is any of your fucking business.” I snap, annoyed that he is still going on at me, after days. Jake and his idea
I should man up, give Sophie and me a chance and be done with it. No cares about hurting Natasha, how wrong this is, how
huge a deal it would be if we didn’t work. The list of things in our way mean very little to him and sometimes his self-centered
attitude drives me crazy.
Jake is a guy who pursues what he wants and doesn’t care who it affects. We are like chalk and cheese.
“Tetchy this morning, Buttercup.... losing that cool demeanor an awfully lot lately.” He tweaks my cheek immaturely and
impulsively I raise a fist and slide into fighter mode, so ready to take the shit, head on, in this mood. He slaps my clenched fist
with his palm, dancing around ready to spar and laughs at me, while lifting defensive fists in readiness. Our childish sparring, we
do a lot. Lightening my mood, a little, at how much of a dumb ass he is; always ready to play fight and carry on like we are still
kids. He makes a couple of mock jabs in mid-air which I dodge expertly.
“I will fuck you up.” I growl at him, no longer feeling serious, but still feeling messy inside. Sophie really knows how to screw me
up without even trying and I wonder if she knows how badly she gets to me. I wonder if she knows how much she fucks my head
and my heart up. Going to fight training is the only thing keeping me from self-imploding with all this shit inside of me.
“I will beat both of you if you do not stop this nonsense and get back to work. Arry, we will chat later.” My father’s heavy tone and
narrowed gaze alerts us to the audience at the glass panel doors. Seems like a lot of staff are wandering around up here and we
are apparently entertaining. I guess it’s not often you see two thirds of the CEO trio trying to play box with one another like five-
year old’s in the board room. I drop my stance and sigh, now overly aware of the audience. Scooping up my cell and impulsively
check the screen. I won’t be having any heart to heart later. I have training at six, the only way to keep me sane.

No calls, no texts.... no Sophie. It hits me low in the stomach and this churning weight that has been with me since I walked out
of her bedroom. I hate that she has this power over me so effortlessly, without even trying. No other person alive has ever been
able to get under my skin and pull my head and heart apart like she does.
“Yeah little bro, go lock yourself in your office and cry into some Ben and Jerry’s before our three o’clock meeting.” Jake winks
and gets a shove from me as I pass him, with a cool look of not amused. Eager to be out the door so that I can be alone. I intend
to call the Huntsbergers again and see if she is home yet, her housekeeper said she was out shopping, and I keep hoping I
catch her. I don’t know what else to do besides keep trying.
I give them both a nod as if to say goodbye and head out the door before they do, making my way with my head down and fast
steps. Stalking through the busy hall, trying to put distance between my brother and father, who will be hot on my heels soon
enough, when my cell starts vibrating in my hand. Looking at it quickly my heart almost stops, and I do a double take of disbelief
when I see Sophie’s name on the screen flashing back at me. It takes a second to register that I am not imagining it, that she
really is calling me, and this isn’t a desperate hallucination.
I don’t hesitate to answer, despite where I am standing, stopping stock still. My stomach in my mouth almost instantly, internal
fluttering with nerves and heart rate elevating as my palms get clammy in a nanosecond.
“Sophie?” I sound crazily breathy, but I am just so happy to finally have her call me that I seem to almost lose the ability to talk
normally. The rush of Adrenalin and warmness that flow through me have stopped me in my tracks, standing in the middle of the
hall as people push by me with small smiles and nods. I look back over my shoulder and see my brother and father are heading
the other way, receding backs getting further away and relax a little, not needing an audience for this.
“You need to stop calling me.” She sounds like my girl, strong and beautiful, and a little irritated, if not a little emotional too. She
sounds perfect, despite what she is actually saying to me. That inner knot in my stomach at finally hearing her voice again, even
if it is to tell me to leave her alone and everything bouncing around in me that has been holding still, to just hear from her again. I
can’t help the deliriously happy in this second, and yet also crushed that she is still defensive and closed off. I won’t be agreeing
to that shit any time soon.
“You can’t hit me with a love confession, then cut me off, Sophs. I told you we needed to talk about this.” I answer her, half
listening, half looking around for somewhere private to go to talk to her; determined that I will keep her on my cell for hours if that
is what it takes to sort things out between us. Seeing nowhere else, I head back to the board room from where I just came from.
It’s empty now and I need some quiet to talk to her.

“Yes, I can because I need to, and nothing can fix this except space. What is talking going to do, Arry? Huh? Are you going to
suddenly not love Natasha anymore and ask me to settle down and be your girlfriend?” Sophie sounds defensive, hurt and her
words cut me to the bone in all ways. Last thing I told her was that I didn’t feel that way about her, I haven’t told her that I don’t
even know what I feel at all. That since I left all I have done is think about her, about us and all possible outcomes if there was
even to be an us.
“I can’t just stop giving a shit about you. It’s not that easy. This whole thing is killing me, and I don’t know what else to do but talk
to you about it. Your head is not’ the only one which has been fucked up by this.” I push open the door and head into the room
distractedly, shutting it fast and latching the lock to make sure I get no interruptions. I move to the table and perch on the edge,
trying so hard to keep myself together and hold the cell close as I can, to be able to hear every single sound from her while I get
to have this small hold on her. I visualize her in my head and sigh at the fact she is finally talking to me.
Bittersweet as hell. Nothing feels as good as her voice to me right now, and all the weeks of churning anxiety and anger,
dissipate with a connection to her. Finally talking to her and yet she is trying to cut me loose. Hearing her only reminds me of
how much I have been missing her and how much I can’t deal with Sophie closing me out. I hate it. I can’t imagine anything
worse in my life than more of what I have endured this past week.
“There’s nothing you can say. Just leave me be and let me move on, Arry. I’m begging you. Stop calling me, stop texting, and just
leave me alone. Let me get over you and get some sanity back. Maybe after that, we can see each other ... but not until then.”
Again, she sounds strained and emotional, doing what she thinks she needs to do. She doesn’t know that I might actually feel
that way about her too, but I can’t tell her when it’s all so messy. Panic is gripping me at the thought of her cutting me off again,
for longer than days this time and I can’t let that happen. I need Sophie in my life. She’s my sanity. I don’t want her to move on
and get over me. She’s MY Sophie.
“I can’t do that... What if you need me? What if I need you?” I am trying to be honest because I know I’ll need her, yet I still just
cannot come out and say the words she needs to hear. I know I should say something, confirm something about how I feel, but
at the same time I don’t want to give her false hope or confuse her too. I just want to cling onto her.
Sophie is the girl I call or text when I need someone. She’s the one who can keep me up half the night with pointless funny texts
about nothing when I need a mood lift. Sophie is the calm in the crazy, the sun in the dark. Even when I met Natasha, Sophie
has always still been there in the foreground of my life.
“You’ve never needed me, and I need to learn to stop needing you. I won’t be going back down that route of self-destruction and
booze, so you can be happy knowing I’m sorting myself out. I’m trying to be a better person, for me, and I’m trying to find a way
to get on in life. I can’t do that if you keep pulling me back to you. If you care about me, like you say you do, then let me go. Let

me do this on my own.” Her voice wobbles and breaks subtly, tears in her normally angelic tone and it rips me apart. I hate
making my girl cry. Such a shithead and words stick in my throat. I can’t help but admire how grown up she sounds; how sure
she is that she can do this. I want to be able to support her decisions, be the friend I have always been in all things, but I can’t.
Cannot let her make a choice that leaves me in her dust, whether long term or short. I won’t survive without her.
How can she believe that I don’t need her?
“Sophs, please. Just meet me, let us talk about this. Don’t do this to me.” Don’t do this to us. We need each other. I know I can
talk her round if I just see her again, face to face, one on one. I want to see her, it feels like years since I got to be near her and
more than anything, I want the contact. We have years of friendship and co-dependency; we can’t let that go.
“I’ve made up my mind. Now respect my decision to be a grown-up about this. Don’t call me anymore, Arry, don’t leave me
messages. I love you ... but I need to let you go.” The strength in her tone cuts me to the core, as do her words. The same
strength I have witnessed when she was dealing with her demon’s head on. She’s closing a door on me, disregarding my
feelings or what I need in a bid to save herself, as she should but I won’t let her. I can’t let her. It’s not a life without her.
“Sophs?” I try desperately, my head telling me to fuck everything and tell her I do care, I do have feelings for her in the same
way. Screw what happens, screw everyone but her. The weird silence on the phone is suddenly overwhelming and instinct
makes me look at my cell, gnawing panic alerting me to the oddness of the noise, realizing she has hung up on me. That swift
kick to the gut again disables me for a second, staring blankly in disbelief and I redial her cell immediately.
I am not done with this; we are not done. I will never be done with her and she can’t deliver a speech then fucking hang up on
me. Panic grips my throat and my blood runs cold. There are three beeps and I know she has done it again, re-blocked my cell
so I can’t call her, and I let out a massive ‘ARGHHH’, kicking a chair away from the table with the full brunt of my frustration as
rage and heartache soar through me in a huge weight of overwhelm. I can’t breathe, trying hard to drag air into my lungs as I
manically hit my cell with my fingers in a bid to redial.
“For fuck’s sake, Sophie!” I yell into the air and try again, despite knowing the outcome will be the same. The three beeps kill me.
My heart and stomach twisting and collapsing inside with a force that it really feels like I have taken a full-frontal kick in the
intestines. I won’t let her do this. I will fucking leave right now and get on the jet to go see her. I love her, she’s my best friend,
and I won’t let her cut me out of her life!
I get up and pace the room, dragging my fingers through my hair crazily, panting and pacing, clawing my brain to bits in a bid to
figure out what the hell to do. I catch sight of movement out of the corner of my eyes and realize people are staring at me

through the glass. The office seems eerily quiet out there and I am more than aware they probably just all saw me kick a chair,
ten feet across the floor, before cursing out the girl who has fucked my head up. I’m not angry with her, despite the rage I’m
feeling, all mixed up with pain and sadness.
I’m angry at this situation, pissed that this is the way it is, that it has come to be. I can’t just throw everything aside, caution to the
wind, and sweep Sophie off her feet into some crazy love affair and screw everyone else. There are too many things standing in
the way. Too much to lose. Responsibilities, a life with another girl; families so intertwined that makes this so fucking wrong......
but then there’s Sophie.
My whole sole reason that I pulled my shit together at nineteen and grew up. The person I became was because of her because
she needed me. She gave me a purpose that was more than how I was living my life back then.
How the hell does she not know this, it’s not like I never told her?
The magnitude of just what she means to me hits me again, another full body attack of pain, another bout of inability to breathe,
and I know one thing for certain.
I cannot lose her.