The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 43

The panic fleeting across his face breaks my heart a thousand times more than the past two years have. I never wanted to tell him, but somehow, as with everything in my life, it always comes out involuntarily when I am with him. It’s always been this way; it’s why he knows every single sordid detail of my past. I have never been able to keep anything from him for long and I guess it’s because I have always loved him. NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

God, girl, you are such a fool.

“You think I wanted this? You think I asked to start feeling differently about you? Or to even know that’s what this emptiness has been? Don’t you think I wish I could just push it all away, and be like I was before?” I raise my palms in angst. Not sure what else to do. “I didn’t know until yesterday that this is what is even wrong with me. This is all a shock to me too, and it’s not like I don’t know that this isn’t right. I know you don’t look or feel that way about me, I know you’re in love with Natasha and this fucks me and you up in every way. You don’t need to point this out to me … I already know, Arry!” I sob, slumping down on the floor hopelessly. Arrick hesitates, moving as though to come to me, to console me, but then steps back, confused if he should or shouldn’t, his sense of confusion choosing to play safe and stay back.

“I don’t know what to say. What you want me to do? I don’t even know how to feel right now, Sophs. We’re Batman and Robin, not Batman and Catwoman!” Arrick moves back until he meets the wall behind him and slumps down too, sliding down until his ass hits the wood, sitting in mirroring poses, facing each other across the floor. I wipe my tears away and just despair at him hopelessly, finding that inner numb to get through this moment.

“If I knew what to do then I would be doing it.” I sniff back the lump in my throat painfully, making talking harder. My eyes scramble over his disheveled form as he looks utterly devastated, which in turn, does the same to me.

“You and me, Sophs, it’s always been innocent. It’s always been platonic. I don’t get how this...” ... He trails off, as though somehow verbalizing his questions will make me suddenly have some sort of epiphany that this was all a big silly childish mistake. That, maybe, he can talk sense into me and make me take it all back.

“You don’t get how I could fall in love with you? Really?” I struggle to my feet, sarcasm biting at just how dense he can be and stare down at him. Anger to replace the pain, so predictably me. Good old self-defense Sophie system kicking in. “Is it really that awful or unbelievable?” I smart, temper moving in, and I really don’t have the energy to argue myself out of it. Arrick must feel awkward sitting down now that I am on my feet as he clambers up the wall to stand and stays there staring at me in disbelief.

“No, it’s just … Sophs, this is morally wrong, it crosses so many boundaries. I’ve been your guardian since you were a kid. I watched you grow up … I know everything about what he did to you. We could never …” Arrick is flailing and my hot blood boils up in complete agitation.

“Jesus Christ! It’s not like I’m about to force you to have sex with me for god’s sake. Overreacting just a tad, aren’t we?” I snap at him and go to storm across my room to pick up a hairbrush, seeing as my hairs sliding down and suddenly I am more than aware I must look like a complete child, and it bothers me in a way it never has before.

“Jesus, Sophie, ... don’t put that visual in my head ... I don’t want to think about sex with you. I couldn’t ever do that to, or with you ... I don’t think I could even kiss you, let alone ...” He falters again when I throw him that look that reminds him, we already kissed once, and his face crumbles once more. “I know we did then, but I was drunk, and I don’t even remember. I don’t think I could ever...That I would want to if we.... Or I mean......It’s … just that you and I … trust, and our families … I can’t imagine I could kiss....” He’s rambling and it’s gotten to the stage that he is actually pissing me off, rather than making me nervous now.

“For the love of God!” I stalk over to him, impulsive and fiery me taking control before she snaps with temper. I grab him by the chin with one hand, pull him fast to meet my height and hit him with my mouth on his, to shut him up. Kissing him hard. Within a second of lips meeting lips he jerks back, pushing me away by the upper arms with sheer shock running across his face. His pupils shrinking to pinholes and the green seems to overtake almost instantly.

I’d say he just had a major shock to the system.

“Why the hell did you do that?” he stammers, whiter than snow, and yet, I just feel crushed. I guess I was harboring some hope that deep down he would maybe like it.

Guess not.

“To shut you up; you’re rambling, and to clear up all your confusion... See! You clearly can’t. You can go now. Guess we’re done here.” I lift my chin defiantly and turn to walk away and leave him to his midlife crisis, gasping as a strong hand grips my wrist and tugs me back into him. I collide with his torso aggressively, breathe catching and completely stunned.

It happens so fast I’m too bowled over to really compute what’s happening as his mouth comes back to mine with a kiss that’s way more intent in purpose than mine was. He molds to my mouth; hands cup my face on each side so his fingers get buried in my hair as palms splay across my cheeks. I am powerless not to be kissed. He sinks pretty much the most non-platonic, seductive, and passionate kiss I have ever felt in my life on me. A slight parting of lips, perfectly meeting and perfectly matched, his nose pressed to the side of mine as fire erupts. My insides explode in an array of fireworks and heat, and then, almost as quickly, he pulls away, dropping his hold on me and lifting palms in the air to signify the ‘what the fuck did I do?’ moment he starts having. The look of shock on his face and the way he stands back with utter open-mouthed disbelief tells me he probably hadn’t intended to do that at all. And doesn’t seem to have enjoyed the effect it had on him either.

“Shit. I don’t know why I..... I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck, Sophs. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I ... I don’t know why I …” He moves away from me, shell-shocked and obviously ready to run. Not that I blame him; it left me gasping for breath, even more confused, and yet also strangely surreal. His eyes flicker from one of mine to the other in succession, his breath rapid as his feet start heading for the door. Arrick has lost every ounce of his cool and calm control that he excels at in life, and right now, he’s a fumbling teen with no clue how to react to something he just impulsively did. Meanwhile, I’m just standing, like in slow motion, and feeling that sink of disappointment at his reaction.