CHAPTER451
I’m trawling my phone messages after we finish eating, my sister reminding me of her anniversary party this coming month. Leila has been married only three years, but this is an annual event that no one misses if they want to remain physically unharmed. Sort of the highlight to everyone’s year, and a chance to glam up and get the party groove on. I reply, informing her I’ll be coming with two guests, Jenny and Christian, as they have promised to be my strength at a party, I know he will be at. Even the Carreros never miss Leila’s parties, what with the two families being almost family in themselves and the last thing I need is to rock up alone and come face to face with the dream couple acting like they never knew me at all.
Yeah, that won’t be awkward at all. Or painful in the slightest!
“You done, kitten?” Christian’s smiling my way, throwing down his napkin after settling the bill, despite all my pre-warning that this was on me. He’s a sneaky boy, always diving in with that damn chivalry that I used to love so much on someone else. It irks me right now.
“Hey, I said I was paying!” I protest as I spy the receipt on the plate, but he only grins back devilishly. Christian’s family is much like mine in that I never want for anything. Well off, and generous to a fault; both of us come from wealthy homes and have more than comfortable allowances to live on.
“I pay for my girls.” He smiles again but I only eye roll, as Christian likes to imply constantly that Jenny and I are his “women” although we all know he has been secretly dating a senior fashion student a couple of years above us, who has not quite come out of the closet yet. James is his blue-eyed boy with a severe fear of being “outed”.
Christian holds his hand out to me as he slides from the table, impeccably dressed in jeans and a button-down that only emphasize his toned body. He’s not overly tall for a guy, around five feet ten, but he’s perfectly proportioned and muscular with it. I take it graciously and let him pull me out to his side, keeping our fingers entwined. Christian is a very affectionate soul, he loves nothing more than manhandling Jenny and me constantly, and likes to walk everywhere arm in arm, or hand in hand, usually with one of us on each side. He reminds me of Arrick in that way and I’m forever trying to stop myself making that connection.
“Is my princess ready to go?” He glances down at my chair, checking I have everything as I nod with a huge smile. Christian always makes me feel like smiling, he’s one of those friends who put sunshine in your day, by just by being there. Always the gentleman, and a lot of lovely. When he’s not being an overly dramatic nightmare of a queen, of course.
“I am.” I giggle at him, as he tugs me against him to settle my arm in his like an old biddy and links fingers loosely, ready to walk out of the restaurant. He moves the chair aside and guides me with him towards the door, away from our table and onto the wide walkaway that is clear up the center.
“Sophie?” A male voice halts me from behind, my body bristling at the familiarity of it, the undeniable tone and hoarse sexiness, sends my stomach into an instant nosedive, nerves immediately tingling. I can barely conceal my reaction, tensing on Christian’s arm as I wince in something similar to pain. I turn towards the source impulsively, heart thudding heavily, even though every part of me tells me to walk away.
My heart pounding like it’s gone into shock as I turn slowly, tense and scared at what I know will hurt worse to see. Months of nothing at all and the one day he’s been plaguing my head mercilessly, more than any other day, he physically appears.
Arrick Carrero is standing straight as a rod a few feet away, obviously just arriving with two men behind him, all casually dressed, and I recognize one of them as someone that he regularly hangs out with. The familiar face casts a friendly smile my way, a nod of recognition that I return with a half-smile before bringing my focus back to Arry. I don’t know how to react, so grip Christian fingers harder, as though to beg him to help me. He squeezes them back silently. His little show of support.
“Hi.” I breathe weakly, unable to hold the gaze of those perfect hazel eyes, in that all too flawless and clean-shaven face. Not a thing about his appearance has changed in anyway and he’s still as devastating to my soul. He looks like the guy I miss, in every single little tiny way and it only hurts me irreversibly that he seems so normal and unaffected by finally seeing me again. There is definite weirdness, uncertainty in how I should act, and I feel like I don’t know him anymore. My heart playing the rhumba and my legs go weak as blood courses to my heart in stupendous fashion. Physically I’m dying, outwardly I am still and cool like he always was.
Christian lets go of my arm, unhooks his fingers, and slings a supportive arm around my shoulders. He knows who Arrick Carrero is; any hot-blooded admirer of gorgeous men in the whole of New York knows who he is, and he knows the backstory between Arrick and I only too well. A night of wine and movies ended up with my sobbing my heart out and confessing the whole sorry story to the two of them at stupid o’clock one Saturday night. They know every single detail and decided he should earn the crown of “idiot of the century” for letting me go.
Arrick narrows his eyes a fraction, a slight tension to his jaw as he tries not to run his eyes over the way Christian is draped around me, I see the subtle tells. Not sure how to take it at all. Not sure I should even care if he doesn’t like it. I owe him nothing anymore.
He hurt you remember. Discarded you like you meant nothing.
“How have you been?” He clears his throat as his two companions wander off further in the direction of their table, leaving him alone with us. It’s wholly awkward, and I resist the urge to fidget, aware of the way my heart and soul start to quiver at his mere presence and alert me to the fact that three months have not changed a whole lot between us. I clearly still fall to pieces at the sight of him, my heart aching, and the sudden sadness of realizing I still love him hits me in the gut. No matter how many times I’ve told myself I’ll never need him again, never want to… Here we are.
He looks like him; flawlessly pulled together, emotionally cool and stunning as he always was. Hair spiked on top and lighter in color, freshly cut, clean-shaven, while those hazel eyes are a lot greener today. Then I guess seeing me would maybe stress him out, especially if he swore to Natasha he would never have anything to do with me again. He doesn’t go back on his word, ever.
Well, unless it comes to me. I guess promises made to me don’t mean anything when it came to her.
“I’m good, just getting on, and you know? … I have school.” I answer unsurely, lost for words, my voice noticeably young. Christian seems to sense my unease and leans past, extending a hand. I almost forgot he was draped around me, only seeing Arrick in this place, as though everyone and everything else faded into non-existence.
“Hi, I’m Christian, Sophie’s told me about you being childhood besties, and I have to say I’m an admirer of your fighting skills, Arrick. I see you had another knockout victory two weeks back, against Tiger Marse.” Christian lays on the straight guy act super thickly and I cringe inwardly. I hate when he plays the macho guy, it doesn’t suit him.
Arrick regards his outstretched hand a moment and I really think he might just ignore it, he seems strangely torn before shaking it firmly, and a little too firmly judging by Christian’s tensing body. I note the way both have gone into guy mode, voices a tad huskier and mannerisms a little more rugged, like an alpha male tug of war, or some nonsense. I don’t get it at all, but Christian seems to be in the zone with his play pretend and pulls his hand back to his side.
“Thanks. Nice to meet you, Christian.” Arrick goes to say more, but one of his friends calls on him, making him look back with a frown. He turns back with an unreadable expression and there’s another awkward pause between the three of us as his eyes take me in quickly. His gaze travels over me as though his hands skimmed me instead and every part of me warms crazily. Standing in my floral dress and dainty flats, completely vulnerable to him. I know I must look different from the last time he saw me. I’ve found a new girly style again, with floaty short dresses and sweet shrugs, that are not so severe as the glamour chic that Camilla inspired. My hair is longer and softer in its grown out, stripped back to blonde, light bob style, and my makeup is natural.
“You look good Sophs. You always were more beautiful as a blonde. I like this on you, the sweet girl look … It’s more you.” His eyes come to rest on my hair, a steady look that translates so much, yet so little, and it only deepens the heavy feeling in my heart to an almost unbearable level.
“Thanks. You too. I mean … you look good.” I blush shyly, looking down at my hands as the emotion in my throat builds up to choke me. The man nearby, the unfamiliar one, calls on Arrick again and this time Arry signals at him to wait another two minutes with a hand gesture. He turns back to me, all but ignoring Christian’s presence. Christian is being strangely silent for a guy who normally never shuts up.
“I need to go, Sophs; are you going to Leila’s party?” Arrick seems rooted to the spot as if he has no intention of moving, but Christian is quick off the mark, sensing my growing inability to function the longer we stand here. I’m literally getting quieter and more nervous, unsure how to talk to him as my throat closes on me. My body starting to tremble subtly, and I’m pretty sure I’m losing the use of my legs. This extreme physical reaction only happens with him, and I hate that he still has this effect on me.
“We sure will be, won’t we sweetheart? Can’t wait to meet Daniel, and of course, Leila. Her parents have told me she’s the family fireball.” Christian squeezes my shoulders and I throw him a mild frown. I know what he’s doing and I’m not sure I like it. Arrick looks away, again his cool unreadable facade back in place, that tiny muscle in his jaw making the tiniest of movements. A little Arrick tell that he’s not as unaffected as he likes to pretend. The master of indifference is back and even feeling this estranged from him, I can still sense some of his moods.
“Guess I’ll see you both there then.” Arrick smiles my way tightly, eyes locking briefly and it’s like a thunderbolt to my heart. That devastating half-smile that can crush souls with a tiny flash, dimples hinting, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks somehow deflated. I wonder if life with Natasha is back to what it once was, seeing as this is how he always used to seem with her. I guess the lack of my problematic self means he has everything back under control and boringly normal.
Just how he wanted it, right?
“Guess you will.” I smile quickly, my face tenses because it’s completely unnatural and look down, away from that gaze with a heavy sigh. It’s beyond me how one person can affect every single tiny part of you with the littlest of efforts.
“I better go before they start kicking off and eating the tablecloths.” He motions casually towards his two friends at a nearby table and I nod, my stomach twisting in two. Hating that he still makes me feel this way and wishing I hadn’t seen him again, but at the same time, wishing I was alone, wishing he hadn’t thought Christian was my boyfriend and he would have given me an old Arrick hug, like the old days to wipe the slate clean. I can’t deny that seeing him has only emphasized how much I miss him, how much I would have him back, even as friends, because this distance is worse than hell. Seeing him only reminds me of how much I still need him, and it hurts more than any pain I ever knew I could feel. I’m torn, knowing we should leave, but my feet don’t want to move. It’s like my brain desperately wants to cling to him in any way it can, even if he did rip my heart out."
