The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

We find his group fast, enveloped into handshakes and hugs and I even recognize a couple of familiar faces of people I have
accompanied Arrick with over the years. I’m passed from person to person, as we reacquaint and Arrick is caught in the throes of
welcomes and back slaps. He’s always been a sociable and friendly guy. He eases into the whole guy among guys thing so
fluidly, at home with his circle of friends and at ease to just be Arry. Not a rich Carrero tycoon, or even Arrick Carrero, fighter
extraordinaire.
The club is pretty cool, one I’m sure I have never been to, and it’s obvious the door fee is higher than most places, by the type of
people milling around. It screams trendy, upmarket and stinks of money. I’m surprised that he comes here. I know they usually
opt for classier places, but normally he likes more middle ground clubs. Affordable for his friends who are not born into money,
and this is not one of those. Knowing him, he probably paid the door and bar tab in advance for whoever’s birthday this is. That’s
what he’s like.
“You look amazing.” Nathan, Arrick’s best friend and fight promoter, winks at me, grabs my hand and makes me do a little twirl
under his arm. Evaluating the new and improved Sophie, as it’s been weeks since I last saw him. I’m free of my jacket as Arry
takes them to dump on a nearby chair.
“Thanks, not so bad yourself old man.” I jest with him. I’ve known Nathan as long as I have known Arrick; he used to frequent all
the group trips he ever took me on. He now works tirelessly to put my boys’ face all over the New York fight scene and is the
reason Arrick is fast becoming a known star. I love Nathan to bits; he’s tall with dark, almost black hair and deep brown eyes,
pretty cute as men go and totally built like a boxer. I know he sometimes trains with Arry, but never went down the route of
becoming a pro. He’s cocky, womanizer with a cheeky smile, roaming eye, and a serious aversion to commitment, generally a
nice guy though. Like most of Arrick’s friends, I guess.
“Boy needs to man up and lay claim before I do.” He grins and leans in to give me a chaste kiss on the cheek. Innocent enough,
as he’s one of the few men I trust, a little, almost as much as my brothers. Laughing when Arrick pushes him aside jokingly,
returning to my side.
“Hands off, this one’s a lady and will always be out of bounds. For eternity.” Arrick jokes, placing me beside him and away from
Nathan with a smirk, a little hands-off joke and I eye roll. I would never go there with Nathan, not for anything. It would be weird
as hell and besides, he’s always been Arrick’s best male friend and would be wrong on so many levels. Plus, he doesn’t look
anywhere near as good as Arry does, in any, way, shape, or form.
Arrick accepts the beer Nathan hands to him, sliding a glass of wine my way, and I accept with a smile, raising a brow at the
saucy wink Nathan gives me and laugh when Arry sucker punches him in the abdomen with the back of his beer bottle for it.

Nathan laughs.
“Sure this is all as platonic as you two like to make out?” He jests and only grins wider when he catches that narrowed glare that
his bestie throws him; it’s clear he knows exactly what has been going on with us, and his dig at Arrick just makes me a little
uncomfortable. Nathan always likes to make jokes that graze a little close to the bone, even with warnings from Arry. I look away
and down my drink, ignoring what glances transpire between them.
Arrick turns away; someone tapping him on the shoulder draws his attention, and when he dips down and kisses someone on
the cheek, my heart sinks as Natasha comes into view. All smiles and curls and doe eyes, as he gives her a small hug too,
before coming back to stand by me and Nate. He glances my way briefly, and I work so hard to remain impassive and stare at
my glass instead, giving no hint of the war of emotion that runs through me. My gut always knew she would show up, even
though he never mentioned her, and I’m instantly somber. I want to leave, put the glass down, and hop in a cab back home.
“Hi, Sophie, you look really beautiful tonight. I love that dress.” She beams at me and for once I get an ache of something in my
stomach in relation to her that is not hatred. I get that maybe she thinks we bonded in the bathroom the other night, but it’s plain
weird that she is still being super nice to me; especially as I just spent the last half hour thinking about sex with her boyfriend. I
feel awkward but notice that she actually looks prettier than normal.
“You too, your dress is pretty cute.” I answer honestly, eyeing up the loose floral dress that is edgy enough in style to look right
for a club. I do, however, mentally picture it as a jumpsuit instead, with higher heels, and see a much more flattering look on her
short height that would make a huge difference to her whole body. She’s wearing low heels, like she always does, and it just to
me makes her seem so unrefined and unfinished. An extra inch would make her legs killer.
“My friend picked it out, she’s like you. Always following trends and fashion and has an eye for what’s hot.” She giggles my way
and Arrick’s eyes rest on both of us, silently watching with that unreadable expression. I guess he’s wondering why, after so long
being at each other’s throat, I choose now to act like a human towards her. Even I know my whole attitude towards her is missing
any hostility. I sound genuine for once, because I am.
I guess I feel sorry for her, and guilt has a part to play. I can’t really hate someone for being completely in love with Arrick. He’s
easy to fall in love with, and I can’t imagine what it must be like for her. Wanting to be normal with him, but can’t, wanting to act
like his girlfriend, even though she’s not, the feelings all still there inside her, and she hasn’t done anything wrong to have him
break up with her. I have to admit, my heartache and gnawing pangs this second are all for her, and the situation she never
asked for.

Arrick drinks from his bottle, giving off subtle vibes that he doesn’t feel completely at ease either. Nathan making small talk over
my head at him and I just take a moment to study Natasha, hovering still and she smiles at me. Not a bitchy ‘back off’ smile. But
a genuine ‘thank you for being nice to me and not embarrassing me when I came over’ smile, which makes me feel like an
absolute asshole. I’m compelled to say something, while he’s engrossed in a conversation and seems to be avoiding talking to
her.
“So, you still work at the hospital?” I ask her warily, not sure why I’m doing this whole small talk thing; she would leave a lot
quicker if I ignored her. I glance at Arrick and catch the little frowns and signals he throws my way.
He’s confused. Hell, I’m confused.
“Yeah, I am. I love working there, although it gets hard at times. I’m just glad I’m not down in the ER anymore, which was hell on
earth. I’m just nursing in the pediatric ward now. I love babies.” She seems relieved to have a reason to still linger, glancing his
way every few seconds and it’s obvious she is desperate to get some eye contact or response from him. I can almost sense her
desperation to touch him while he is so close and that lump in my stomach expands tenfold. I feel like an absolute callous
shithead that I’m the reason she’s even in this kind of pain, and it’s a sobering slap in my face, making me uncomfortable with all
these new wimpy feelings I’m having over her.
Pull yourself together; it’s Natasha, the girl you despise!