Angsty - Enemies to Lovers - Slow Burn
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Hitch Pepper might've had a stupid name, and a personality that drove me crazy, but that didn't stop her from being gorgeous. Everyone knew it, guys and girls alike.
And my buddy Phil Childre...
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"YOU'VE GOT JULIAN Mercado."
"Hey, Julian, it's Reggie. You know, Pepper's friend?"
I froze. "Why are you calling me? What happened?"
"Uh, well . . . so, uh, you should probably come over here."
I could've crushed the receiver in my hand; I held it so tightly. "Is it Hitch? Is she okay?"
"She's—yeah, she's fine. Uh, kind of. She, well, she needs you. You specifically. She didn't say she does, but she does."
"Is she hurt?"
"No, not really. She just—she needs you, man. And she needs a place to live. She's been with me and my girl for about a month and, well, it's not a good place for her."
"Is she there right now?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I'll be there."
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I knocked on the front door and then counted to three before I knocked again because three seconds was too long to wait.
Reggie was the one who answered the door, a waft of pot hitting me in the face when he opened it.
"Hey, man. How'd you get here so fast? You live, like, ten minutes away from here."
"I sped." I pushed past him and surveyed the house, looking for Hitch. Music was coming from a room down the hall, some sad-sounding song. I was heading in that direction without a second thought, but Reggie grabbed my shoulder to stop me.
"Hey, wait," he told me. "You should know something before you barge in there."
My body locked up. Why did I need a preface before I saw her? "What? What is it? What happened to her?"
"You need to hear that from her." I did my best not to get angry. "But I need you to calm down before you see her. And don't scare her, alright? She's under a lot of stress right now."
We held eye contact for a few frantic seconds before he let me go. I turned away from him as soon as I was free, charging back towards the room.
She was sitting on a bean bag next to her record player when I entered, her face turned away from me as she stared out the window to her right, legs bent and chin on her knees.
Wearing a white, cotton dress, her hair spilled down her back in messy waves, longer and thicker than it had been the last time I'd seen her.
She looked beautiful, and completely unlike the beaten, unrecognizable versions of her that my mind had tortuously pieced together to make sense of Reggie's phone call on the drive over.
And she looked sober.
I took a second to just watch her, letting the panic bleed out of me as I sucked in several deep breaths to calm my nerves.
