CHAPTER549
He takes the letter silently, looking from my face to the paper with dead pan cool. He unfolds it and reads carefully, his eyes scanning the words in silence with no expression that gives me any clues as to what he is thinking. He only takes a minute to get through it, looking unchanged. Finally, a smile breaks over his face.
“They offered you a scholarship for a year to some French fashion academy?” He beams at me. A real show of pride running across his gorgeous face yet I still get that tight knot of anxiety biting inside. Waiting for him to realize what that means. “You really are good at what you do, baby, why is this a bad thing?” He puts the letter down and moves to catch me once more, pulling me in by the waist so I’m against him snugly, molding to him in our unique perfect way.
“It’s a year… An alternative to my year here at the New York design school.” I frown at him, unsure why he is taking this so well when the letter makes it clear that it is in France. Across the world. Feeling fragile at this topic, and not sure if this is how I even wanted him to react.
““And? The problem is?” He’s smiling at me again, a frown creasing his own brow, obviously confused with what I am getting at. Not seeing why this would upset me and it only makes me feel worse. Little insecure niggles spiking up, even though they are not as bad as they once were. I will always have minor insecurities within me that peek up when I don’t want them to.
“In Paris Arry…Not here.” I bite on my lip and study his expression, waiting for the outburst, but yet again, he smiles and leans in to kiss me with a soft grin.
“Do you want to go?” He asks softly, as though it’s the simplest question in the world. I stare at him silently for a moment as tears fill my eyes, nodding and then look away as one rolls down my cheek pitifully, really hurting inside. Arrick tilts his head to one side so he can still see me and nudges me gently.
“And that makes you cry, why?” He smiles at me again, hands coming up to my face and stroking away the tear with his thumb. Always so gentle with me, so endearing and affectionate. It makes me want to sob.
“I don’t want to leave you.” I cry some more and bury my face against his T-shirt instead, sniffing as his arms wrap around me snugly, trying to get some comfort from him while verbally he is giving me none. I don’t get why this is not affecting him. Why he is so willing to let me go after the year of happiness we’ve had together.
Our life is perfect. We haven’t had any of the fights or outbursts from the days of Natasha, not since. We seem to work so well, cohabit flawlessly, despite our conflicting personalities where domestic crap is concerned. I don’t get why he would let it go so readily when it’s ripping me in two.
“Who said anything about leaving me?” Arrick props my chin up to him so he can look at me once more, again wiping away the tears, only this time he leans in and kisses me softly. “You think I would let you travel across the world to fend for yourself, for a year, baby? You can barely take care of yourself on the odd weekend I have to fly out for fights and leave you for a max of three days. If you’re going to Paris, then you’re stuck with me coming too. You attract trouble like crazy and I don’t trust anyone else to look after you.” Arrick rubs his nose against mine, bringing a tiny smile to my face that makes me realize how dumb I’m being. The reason he doesn’t see it as a big deal is because he isn’t letting me go alone.
“Really?” I brighten up as I stare at him hopefully. I feel so stupid that I didn’t even think he would give me this option, so sure it had been a case of me having to leave to go to school, and him staying here.
“Really! I told you, Mimmo, we’re in this together, always. I don’t need to be here to train. I fight all over the country, and it’s only a flight. It’s not forever. I’m sure Carrero Corp can do without me for a few months. Besides, it’s the city of romance isn’t it? The hell I’m letting you alone out there with your track record of attracting every male who lays eyes on you, you might never come back to me.” He kisses me again, this time harder and takes my breath away with the sheer passion behind it. Arms tight around me and knocking away all my stupid little niggles and fear with one confident lingering smooch.
I love you so much.
“You would do that for me? Leave New York so I can go to school in another country?” I dry my eyes ungracefully and wipe my nose on the back of my hand, un-phased by him watching me adoringly. Comfortable in my own skin when it comes to him,
“School is important, your future is important, and I already told you; you need to find your feet and place in this world to be happy, baby. It doesn’t mean I can’t be there with you on that journey.” Arrick leans in and circles his arms around my butt, squeezing firmly and picking me up so I’m suspended, yet taller than he is. He carries me across to the couch and lays me down on my back across it, crawling carefully over the top of me and nestling down so our bodies meet perfectly, caging me in, nose to nose.
“I love you.” I sigh heavily, meaning every single word with conviction. Heart full to bursting. I kiss his nose, running my fingers through that short sandy colored hair and rake them gently over his scalp.
“I love you more.” He smiles in the heartthrob Hollywood best he saves only for special occasions. Melting me into a bowl of goo and making my toes curl.
“Guess I better accept the placement on Monday, right?” I smile, wriggling under him as he shifts over me and seems to fish around at the side of the couch.
“Right. I’ll start apartment shopping when I drop you off. For now, though, there’s something else.” Arrick moves over me and leans down the side of the couch, looking down as he slides his arm underneath and feels around. I watch him with a furrowed brow of wonder. Confused by his sudden intense look of concentration and what the hell he is even doing. He is so accepting of the fact we just committed to move to another country for a year and yet, he is more focused on something under the sofa.
“What are you doing?” I giggle as he slides further and stretches out more to reach, almost pulling both of us off the side we are teetering on. I grip his shoulders in case I do meet floor from the odd angle he has me perched.
“Looking for… Got it.” He grins, coming back up, hauling us both back to rights and nuzzling back in, pulling a wrapped box with him. He holds it up proudly with a smirk on that handsome face.
It’s a black gift bag, decorated with a gold ribbon and strangely Carrero Corp themed. He turns it upside to tip something out and discards the bag quickly, picking up a package about the size of a ring box, only flat and he pulls back to his knees before sitting comfortably on his haunches and watches me with a very happy expression.
“So tonight, would or should have been Leila’s anniversary party, right?” He gazes at me with that boyish smile. So much going on behind those eyes as they rest on me, and I wiggle myself up to sit up too and regard him curiously.
“Right, except they all got chicken pox and it’s a month away now.” I sit up properly, pulling my legs under to one side in the tight dress and stare at the brown wrapped box with a frown of confusion, guessing it’s for me. Gifts are something he does regularly, but I didn’t expect one tonight. My head is still dancing with delight at the fact we’re going to Paris to continue my studies in fashion, and not quite focusing on what he is saying.
“So that means in about three hours we had sex for the first time, a year ago tonight.” He grins at me. Naughty twinkle in those sexy eyes bringing them alive cutely.
“It wasn’t exactly something we finished, but yeah, I guess. This isn’t some strange memento from that night, is it? Like the cushion cover I left make up on or something equally weird, because I know how lame you can be.” I smile sweetly, frowning at him in complete seriousness. Arry has a box of ticket stubs, weird crap that girls normally save from our many dates over the past months and I think it’s odd. His sentimentality is plain abnormal for such a ‘dude’.
“Thanks, baby. Very heart-warming to know that, and no. This is a gift for you. Tomorrow will be the anniversary of the first day of us…. I kinda liked tonight’s anniversary a little more though.” He winks naughtily, and I roll at him. Obvious that he picks the night he first got to bang me, over the morning he made me his girlfriend.
“You would! …. It’s always sex with you. I’m starting to agree with Christian that you may be closet gay though, normal men don’t do all the romantic stuff you do.” I poke fun at him merrily, screwing up my nose to match his expression and we face off each other in a war of stupid faces that has me giggling insanely in seconds. He is the king of weird faces."
