The Carrero Heart_Beginning_Arrick and Sophie

by L. T. Marshall

  ‘Are you ever going to make this light again? I miss it being blonde, I miss you looking like my Sophie.’ He studies my face, a flicker of something in the depths, maybe a pang of reminiscing and I feel that jolt in my stomach that just puts me back in my previous shy mode.

  ‘Depends…. Are you still buying me a sundae, massive douchebag?’ I raise a brow his way and smile, uneasiness firing up sarcasm in a bid to lighten the heaviness of the moment.

  And oh boy does this feel really heavy right now.

  ‘Thought it was overrated?’ He interjects and gives me a cute look back. Leaning in again with another gaze that sends me into overload.

  ‘So are you, but I still occasionally enjoy indulging.’ I smirk smartly, impressed with my quick wit, all the while trying to move back subtly. I squeal when he bends down and hoists me over his shoulder effortlessly for the second time, with lightning speed that has me squirming and fighting and yelping when he smacks my ass hard; zero qualms about doing it. I rub my butt where it still smarts, cursing internally and scowling at him from my angle, feeling the heat rising from where he struck it and shove the back of his head with my palm in retaliation.

  ‘Asshole.’ I throw at him, screwing up my face in utter un-amusement.

  ‘Brat! Keep it up, I can do this all day, Huffy pants. I can bench press four of you Soph’s.’

  I slump down his back in complete defeat, getting an eyeful of that hot Carrero rear and smack him back, feeling the slight tense way, his body moves in reaction and get a sense of satisfaction. Smug at hitting him back for once.

  Guess he never saw that one coming!

  ‘Hit me, I’ll smack you back.’ I tease immaturely, sounding like a five-year-old kid once more as he walks us forward towards the lounge; before I can languish in my conquest for long and wallow in my achievement, he throws me onto the couch in the most ungraceful and kind of aggressive way, so I land flat on my back with a yelp. I bounce slightly, on the padded surface, arms splayed and legs still following as he leans over the back, where he is still standing, and scoops to grin at me.

  ‘Careful Sophie…Some guys are actually into that.’ He ruffles my hair, tweaks my nose and saunters off towards his room with a wink. I don’t even have time to react.

  ‘I am going for a nap…. Try and not burn the house down or blow up my Xbox in the meantime.We can go for ice cream later. If you need food, use a takeout service as we both know you can’t cook for shit Mimmo. There’s money in my desk through in the study.’ He stops at his bedroom door, I’m still watching him from my wrong angle, laid on the couch, unable to really tear my gaze from those strong legs or pert ass from down here.

  Well, I do have a pretty uninterrupted view and as it’s clearly at the right height.

  ‘Yes sir.’ I mock salute him. Unable to really think up anything witty when my eyeline is trained on fighter’s ass.

  I mean really, who has that sort of will power?

  ‘Party is at seven, I have no plans to go anywhere else until then, apart from on a sundae hunt, so easy day for me. Guess you can amuse yourself for a couple of hours and let me sleep.’ He turns towards me, smiles at me lazily, rubs his face and it’s only now I can see how utterly exhausted he looks. There’s barely a dark circle or even any hint of fatigue really, just a wide pupiled hazy look to those eyes and that little tilt up of his brows in the centre he gets when he needs to sleep badly.

  ‘Guess so.’ I roll onto my side on the couch and reach for the remote, waving it at him, and then watch with great satisfaction when he turns that ‘ten plus’ scoring butt my way once more, and casually man walks into his room.

  Damn.

  Chapter 22

  The day rolls by in an oddly familiar way. Arrick reappears after lunch when he hears the buzzer from the food place I ordered from, and I guess the smell of food, considering he eats like a horse and is always hungry. I have been sensible for once and picked an organic food deli that does salad and wholesome food spreads, knowing he is still supposed to be on a strict eating regime and lately he has been eating really badly, mostly because of me. I really can’t cook, so my attempts at making him anything ‘Tasha’ style would probably have resulted in food poisoning or a serious bout of indigestion at the least. I know my limits and making food is completely not one of my skills. I also let him off with the sundae search, feeling guilty that he would be breaking a food rule, just for me.

  We play Xbox for two hours, fight over games, controls and fight over the fact he’s a huge arsey cheat who never lets me win at anything. I make him eat pillow a few times and then he sits on me because he cannot have a girl beat him at mortal combat type games, because it hurts his male ego. I swear he reverts to ten-year-old kid when he thinks there’s a chance he is losing at Mario Kart too, and being smothered for daring to pass him ends up with me throwing the controller at his head.

  We dump the game and opt for a movie to relax, which is another argument, seeing as I want to watch ‘The Labyrinth’ and he wants to watch ‘Die hard’, because he is clearly a man who has a fetish for action movies, and not in touch with his inner child or feminine side at all. I win…I always win at movie time, Arrick just has to listen to me huff and whine for like thirty-three seconds, about how much he is ruining my life by denying me the pleasure of ‘The Labyrinth’ and he always caves. Still got that little puppy wrapped around my little Sophie fingers it seems.

  So, we watch it, with a huge bowl of sticky popcorn, that really cancels out the healthy lunch I got him and way too many cokes for a guy on a junk food ban. I swear, maybe I am a seriously bad influence on him, as all he ever eats when Tasha around is strictly what is on his diet list on the refrigerator. She seems to take great pride in mothering him, and making disgusting high protein ‘healthy’ food and snacks for him, while I clearly do not care enough. I pretty much rely on him making his own food choices, expecting him to take care of feeding me, and not vice versa. Maybe that’s something I should change, if I want him to maybe think I might be worth more than just a sidekick.

  The movie is nice though, laid out together on the couch, we end up cuddling up, no awkwardness or me getting all weirded out for once about it, and just seeing it for what it is, us of old. Me in his arm with my head on his chest while he rests his feet on the coffee table and we share the bowl on his lap in complete silence. We have the blackout blinds down and the whole apartment in darkness. A couple hours companionable quiet, as the guy who didn’t want to watch my ‘cheesy, shitty, girl flick’ is seriously engrossed and even chuckles along at the funny parts.

  It has been a normal ‘Soph’s and Arry’ of old day. Like we put everything aside for just a few short hours, with some silent agreement, returned to some sense of normal and gave ourselves a break from the reality of our mess for a while. I needed it, I guess he did too, judging by how much of a great mood he has been in all day.

  * * *

  ‘You ready yet shorty?’ Arrick knocks on my door, not waiting for a response as he saunters in, dressed in a navy button down and sexy jeans, he looks every bit the rich playboy like this, and the colour of the shirt seems to enhance his own natural colouring. He has his leather jacket in one hand. I admit, I give him a second look and have to stop the panty combusting wave of ‘oooh’, that hits me out of nowhere. I really need to get a hold on what this boy makes me feel nowadays, I literally cannot keep having these crazy hormonal reactions to him if I am ever to survive in his presence.

  ‘I can’t pick a dress.’ I frown his way; hair and makeup already done and sexy underwear in place, I am draped in a robe and fiddling with the ties while I stare at the sea of dresses I have pulled out and hung up along the wardrobes. It looks like a new season collection of cocktail dresses, and I really cannot choose.

  ‘Any of these, they are all pretty nice and you would look good in a sack Soph’s.’ Arrick meanders along the line of dresses, picking one up and turning it around to see what the back is like, he puts it back when h
e sees just how low it’s cut at the rear; risky low and maybe a little obscene if you don’t wear matching underwear. I stifle a giggle at the sheer look of disapproval that crosses his face. He shoves aside two more and then turns to the wardrobe and opens the door where I have a couple more hanging.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I watch him lazily, standing with one foot on the top of the other in my bare feet, like a child, twisting my tie. I feel more relaxed with him again, after out day of just being, I feel more like we used too.

  ‘Taking away your choice and looking for a dress.’ He pulls out a black one and does the same thing, the turn to check the back, holds it out in my direction and squints with one eye to try and picture it on me. I can only guess he is visualising if it’s too short or not. Sometimes he’s worse than my dad, and I just shake an indulgent head at him.

  ‘You do realise, I am allowed to show a little skin? It can still be classy with some on show you know. Not prostitute’ish in the slightest.’ I point out, moving past him to hook the plum dress he bypassed twice, and hold it against me while I turn to the long wall mirror to my side. I see him look me over in the reflection, face taking on that dead pan expression of his.

  ‘I have no issue with you dressing in any of these, I’m just still trying to get used to the fact it’s okay to see you dressed in any of these.’ He throws me a look that is both endearing and yet frustrating, that look that just reminds me he is one confused cookie.

  ‘That’s lame.’ I retort at him, breaking into a smile because he does too. Somehow killing that tiny tension which has started to arise. He nods at the one I’m still holding.

  ‘That one… It’s sexy and yet cute, and the colour goes with the dark hair.’ His eyes run over my hair and I see that little twinge again, he’s done this like fifty times today and admitted to me more than once that he likes my hair, but he really hates it dark. I guess I look a little too Natasha’esk like this, and maybe the fact Arrick has dated a lot of blondes in the past is a sign he swings more to my natural hair colour.

  Good to know.

  ‘Out. If you want me ready fast, then move, so I can strip.’ I pull mauve shoes from the space under the bed, with high black heels, that are a couple shades darker than my dress, but I can pull it off easily.

  ‘That’s supposed to encourage me to leave?’ Arrick grins at me as I straighten back up to face him, cheeky and suggestive with an eyebrow raise, that teen Carrero on display with his good mood still bubbling around. It wasn’t unknown for him to make jokey sexual innuendos in the past, but we have been missing them since this whole messy love thing came between us.

  ‘Stay if you want, you’re the one trying to stay platonic with everyone.’ I throw back with a raised brow and sarcastic smile.

  He throws me an unamused look that is still boyishly cute, and walks out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. I’m not sure that is the reaction I want, but I am in too much of a hurry to ponder.

  I walk out of my room sassily when I am all dolled up in the figure hugging cocktail dress, it’s knee length, has a pencil skirt and a bust popping upper bodice that has off the shoulder straps and a serious amount of boning to give me a vampy tailored body. I think I am even more in love with it now, than I was the first time I tried it on. It’s definitely not something I would have worn in the past months, to go to some seedy bar with seedy friends, but Arrick’s friends hang out in upmarket, classier clubs, and this dress will totally fit in.

  ‘You look stunning.’ He is on his feet in a flash, eyes devouring me in a very non Arry way and I get that he suddenly feels uncomfortable, when his eyes drop; he picks up his coat and slides it on while avoiding looking at me. I hand him mine to help me with it, the dress may look amazing, but it’s not easy to actually do much in the way of manoeuvring my body without a little help, and getting my arms into my jacket by myself would have been impossible. He comes behind me and seems to pause before helping slide it on, and I have to wonder if he just checked my ass out in that moment, the dress certainly moulds to it back there.

  ‘Don’t look too bad yourself. Totally make Batman and Robin jealous.’ I grin, pushing aside the fact that I think he’s checking me out, ignoring that rosy glow that develops deep down.

  ‘Yeah, I think we are way hotter than those two, and look a hell of a lot better arm in arm than I think they could ever pull off. Maybe Batman and Cat woman.’ Arrick slides my jacket the rest of the way over my shoulders and turns me, to help button it up. Reverting to taking care of me, like Jake does to Mia. I watch that focused set of hazels on my buttons and can’t help but sigh at just how ridiculously flawless that face really is.

  ‘Oooh, I like that, she’s sexy and phraaaaar.’ I make a cat claw motion at his face and just meet an amused frown.

  ‘You’re definitely that alright, you always have been a little ‘phraaaar’. Ferocious kitty cat!’ He looks at me with the zero-expression thing and I can’t tell if he’s being funny or just odd, wondering why he’s going into guarded face mode.

  ‘That’s not sexy Arrick…That sounds like I’m a rabid kitten.’ I answer him flatly, a dead pan expression of unamused, that he just killed my self-perception, majorly.

  ‘Yep…Sounds about right to me.’ He smiles and then grins when my unamused slap gets him in the upper shoulder. He pulls me into him by the jacket with a sharp tug, body colliding softly into his, so my palms immediately go to his broad chest, and kisses me on the forehead; a moment of tense as I really did think he was pulling me in for something a little less platonic, with the ferocity of how quickly he did it. He lingers there a moment, then as he brings his face back down I can’t ignore the way he grazes my nose intimately close, eyes panning my face to my mouth and for a second pulls my pelvis into his groin. It’s over so fast that I can’t really gauge what that even was. He sighs and moves away.

  ‘Now move kitty cat, I have a cab waiting downstairs.’ He shoves me forwards and pats my ass as he ushers me towards the elevator, making me jump that he would even smack my butt this way, when not actually fooling around. I just scowl at him saucily, torn between reading into this more than I should, or just letting it go. I am definitely getting a flirty vibe, and I have no idea if I am imagining it. If this dress has triggered some sort of horny Arrick tonight, then I am all for working that angle.

  Wishful thinking and all that.

  Ushering me in when the doors slide open, he catches my hand in his and pulls me to face the door with him, lacing fingers together, back to hand holding again too it seems. It closes in front of us and he swipes his key card, enters the pin to lock his floor and then hits the ground floor button.

  ‘You obviously don’t get ID’d right?’ Arrick looks across at me seriously, that hot shot look of a dude in control once more, and knocking my head out of whack; wondering if I am reading into things too much. I blink at him in a very ‘Really?’ expression, as though he surely can’t have forgotten how many bars he collected me from in the past year and a half of my life. I’m only twenty, and before the new haircut, I never looked like I was even hitting eighteen. It’s amazing though, how a push up bra and barely any clothes can make your face unimportant to security at trashy bars.

  ‘Not normally no…. Although, I do have a pretty awesome fake, if you’re worried they may not let me in.’ I look back to the closed chrome doors and admire the reflection the two of us make. We look right together, I guess we always have, except I kind of agree with him on the dark hair thing. It’s the only part of us that stands out as odd. It just reminds me of Camilla and that creep from the hotel, and I find myself looking away from the reflection with a sour taste in my mouth.

  ‘I don’t even want to know where you got that.’ He shakes his head, another furrowed brow overtaking his paternal expression.

  ‘I doubt you’ll get pulled looking like that, so try and refrain from illegal ID’s in future.’ He chastises me and I eyeroll dramatically.

  ‘When did you get
so boring? Don’t try and tell me you never had a fake, as I know for a fact you and that brother of yours, were hitting it hard when you were only seventeen.’ I raise my eyebrows knowingly at him, throwing him a serious look, completely aware of his past, because the fool was always pretty open and honest with me.

  ‘It’s different for guys.’ He shrugs infuriatingly, and I catch the way his eyes seem to scan my legs in the pretty clear reflection, as he is pretending not to look at me. I get an inner smug feeling, and maybe pose a little more sexily in a very subtle way.

  ‘That’s so sexist!’ I hit him with my closed fist in the arm, softly, but enough to make him chuckle at me.

  ‘Mmmmm, Hmmm.’ He presses his lips together then dodges when I swing a proper slap at his shoulder in sheer outrage this time. I hate when he tries to goad me on the sexist front.

  ‘Hey! I was agreeing with you.’ He catches my hand mid-air, stifling his laughter, he pulls me forward by the hand, and for a moment, the way he moves in against me, face on, sends instant bells ringing through me. He really does look like he is contemplating kissing me, moving in with a head tilt and easy smile so that he bumps me full frontal with his own body, but instead pulls me in under his arm, to hook me about the shoulders.

  ‘Rabid kitten!’ He plants a kiss on my temple, snuggling me in close, a little more ‘coupley’ than platonic, a hand sliding down lower than the small of my back and stopping just at the groove of my ass. Risky, not a usual Arry move, definitely causing a burning ache in my lower pelvis as his fingers just linger on the placement of my butt dimple; yet not quite over the danger point enough for my liking. I can’t help but sink against him and will his hand to just pass the last distance and do something about this obvious tension building here. If this is how horny feels then I am definitely all over that right now, aching, tingling and warming from the inside out, with just the briefest of little signals from him.