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.
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