Driving the few blocks to Arrick’s apartment, we are equally silent, both lost in our own heads. His occasional glances my way don’t go unnoticed, but I have no clue how to feel, and I’m dreading the moment we walk into his home and come face to face with the girl who has shared his bed for almost two years. Everything is a mess; I should have stayed miles away from him like I planned, but somehow that tiny flicker of hope inside of me is destroying all my willpower.
Natasha comes out of the nearby bedroom as we enter Arrick’s penthouse apartment, her little brown curled head and slight frame just make her look like a little lost puppy dog, and it’s clear by her makeup-free face that she’s been crying at some point. Natasha is never without her makeup, and seeing her now, I see she is a lot plainer looking than I ever realized. She has that girl next door quality and looks a lot better when made up. It feels odd to see her like this, like I
I’m more relaxed after my bath, warm and lazy from the hot soak and wrapped in a fluffy robe, carrying my clothes. I leave his room and head back towards my own for tonight. Head full of things I want to say to him and lost in how I’m going to convince him that going home is not what’s best for me anymore. I’ve managed to push all the other stuff aside, boxed it in the ‘we will evaluate later’ area of my overly crowded brain. I need to prioritize not going home first.I jump when his voice comes from right behind me.“It’s late; maybe we should go to bed and talk over breakfast.”I spin on him as he dumps his car keys on the table and hauls off his hoody to reveal a t-shirt molded to that hunky frame. Tattoos peeking at the neckline an
Arrick sits forward, discarding his mug this time, and rests his elbows on his knees as he thinks this through. The frown on his face showing he is weighing things up and trying to figure out the best way to help me. To figure out what’s best for me. I know he’s internally juggling my family’s wishes to have me home, with my own need to start taking my life into my own hands.“We see Jake tomorrow and we talk more about this then, Sophs. As your godfather, he’ll want to have major input! If you want to do this, then you have to make some promises to your family. Promises to me. There has to be ground rules if they’re going to relax and trust me to look after you in this way.” He is in no-nonsense, business mode; a determined look on his face that he’s really considering this for me. I can’t help the small smile that starts spreading across my face, knowing he might actually help make this a reality if I can prove it’
Jake regards me over the top of his walnut desk, both feet planked on the surface as Arrick leans against the row of tall wide windows and the New York skyline. We’re in Jake’s office at Carrero Corp and Arry has just finished explaining what it is I want to do with my life, and all the ground rules Arrick has placed on the agreement.Like a father figure, Jake is weighing it up, having been sent as spokesperson by my family to ‘deal’ with me in any way he sees fit. I squirm in the leather seat facing him, my untouched drink, brought by one of his assistants, fizzing in front of me on a leather coaster and annoying me that she felt soda pop was what I would want. I can’t blame her though; Margo, his PA, has known me as long as Jake has, and I guess everyone seems to be incapable of seeing me grow up.Jake is
I keep my thoughts to myself, beam at Jake with a smile as he stands to walk us out, and try not to react in any way to the hand holding, even when Arrick’s grip tightens and he moves so close to me that his arm rests against mine.“We’ll drive rather than fly. I think she needs the time to think things through before we face Leila.” Arrick pulls me with him as we turn to leave the office, lifting my black cardigan from the chair for me and guiding me to the door.“I’ve never understood your aversion to the jet; it cuts travel time by three hours. Why do you hate flying so much?” Jake grins at his brother and is met with a shrug.“I guess I’m
Arrick has boyish, cute sort of gorgeousness; always clean shaven. He’s still manly and would still be called handsome, but there is a softness to his face that I always preferred. Square-jawed with man brows and a steely glare when he wants it, but something sweet, almost a gentleness when he’s relaxed. Eternally young.“Food fit for a queen.” He laughs jokingly, dishing out my fries and burger and hands me my banana shake. Everything I always order.McDonald’s used to be a place we hung out on a Saturday morning for our junk food fix and for something to do. My mom would have had a fit if she knew how many times Arrick drove me to burger joints and ‘unhealthy’ eating places to pig out, but that was the nature of being kids. We didn’t care if it was bad for us; we just liked it and we had no
I end up falling asleep in the second leg of our journey as it got dark quicker than anticipated, a sign a storm was moving in fast, and the rain was the first of it. Somehow the lull and motion of the car, the long straight roads, and soft music on the stereo, made me pass out stone cold for over an hour.I wake up stretching out like a cat, momentarily disorientated, and manage to push Arrick in the shoulder with my hand as I uncurl it sleepily.“She’s alive.” He jokes and catches my hand to pull off him, nestling it back down on my lap with a pat. I yawn, stretching my arms upwards instead, slide both feet out of my shoes, rest them on his dash and wiggle down to get comfy. I have always liked to curl my legs up when he’s driving.“How far now?” I ask sleepily, turning on my side a little to watch him in the semi-darkness. The only real illumination is the array of lights on the dash in here, and all the traffic and s
I’ve endured being yelled at, hugged and cried on. Yelled at some more, by various members of my family, and I’m now standing in the last address on my tick list of people I owe apologies to. So far, I’ve stood up to it well, and in the end, most of them, minus Leila, have forgiven me for my disappearing act.Leila is being Leila, and no doubt will come around after she calms down; luckily, her husband, Daniel, is good at restraining her and my apology was pretty much shouted from behind Arrick as Mr. Hunter. kept her lassoed in his arms across their lounge. I’m sure that even Arrick would have little to no chance of being any sort of interference if she actually flew for me. Leila’s an actual psycho.Now I’m standing in Emma’s kitchen, while her housekeeper alerts her to our presence. Arrick chec
He effortlessly moves to in fighter pose, arms in tight, light on his toes and head tucked. For someone who specializes in mixed combat, Arrick has the stance of a boxer down to a fine art. He almost dances on his feet as instinct kicks in and he goes all into trained mode, flexing his shoulders and grinning like a cheeky, cocky ass, who has as undefeated record.Jake lifts his hands in defense, just as good at this, and just as cocky, being sometimes his brothers’ sparring partner at the gym. He takes a swipe with a flat hand at Arrick’s head, but he ducks, weaves, and lands another mock blow on Jake’s shoulder this time. Too fast and focused for even big brother Jacob. Jake grabs his wrist and attempts to yank him into a headlock, unsuccessfully, both too equally matched in this, and go trundling out away from us, while still hitting each other on the fly.Emma and I watch them leave, pushing and shoving like kids, shaking our heads, and smiling as