The Fence || h. s.

15 || Daddy Issues

I awake with a start, instantly squinting at the shockingly bright sunlight assaulting my eyes. My entire body is coated with a layer of sweat, and for a moment I panic, only to remember that I had fallen asleep to H's deep voice last night. That, in turn, means I am still in my spot outside his fence—not a smart move. 

"Shit," I cuss, groggily sitting up. This was a very, very bad idea, especially given the amount of alcohol I had consumed last night. What if someone walked past this place only to notice the passed out daughter of Peter and Marisa Doherty? Geez, I can already imagine the headlines: 'The golden child causing another scandal: day two.' 

Well, at least it would have taken their attention away from my naked ass, so there's that. 

Either way, luck must have been on my side because all my things, my own body included, seem to be untouched. Looks like Dad will not be popping an aneurysm tonight.  

The thought of him makes me frown, especially when the memories of last night begin to flood my system. I've made a proper fool of myself, crying like a little girl in front of H, nearly making him jump the fence just to comfort me. Out of all the embarrassing moments in my life, this is definitely circling around the top ten—and that's saying something, because I'm known for my tendency to make pretty dumb decisions. 

"H," I croak out through my dry throat, "H!" my next call comes out stronger, followed by the rustling of the shrubs lining his fence, and an even louder bellow of, "Wake up!" 

"M'here, m'here," the said man whines in a raspy morning voice. There's a lot of commotion on the other side, so I'm guessing he must have fallen asleep as well sometime after I'd dozed off. "Fuck me, I was out cold. You okay?" 

A smile threatens to spread across my face, because it's quite endearing how his first instinct is to find out whether nothing happened to me during my reckless night out in the open. 

"All body parts seem to be intact," I answer coyly, soon adding, "I told you no one ever walks by here. Climbing this hill is way too much of a bother for most people." 

He lets out an audible breath of air, "Thank god. I never wanted you to sleep out there. The plan was to call you an Uber… that is before I blanked out. Can't even remember when it happened." 

"Me neither," I admit. "We both drank way too much; I'm sensing a troublesome pattern." 

He chuckles in response, but once his laughter dies out, a tense silence follows. Talking about drinking and bad habits brings back last night, especially the part when I completely broke down in his presence. The tequila had made my filter fly completely out the window, but now, without the alcohol coursing through my veins, I feel oddly…shy. And it's definitely not something I find myself experiencing often.

"Uh, so-" I start at the same time that he rasps out, "Cherry, are you-" 

We both let out embarrassed laughs, him being the first one to recover. 

"How are you? I mean- shit," he lowers his voice, muttering, "What the fuck was that question…" 

I bite back a smile at his awkwardness. "I'm fine, except for the fact that I'm mighty hungover, and I think I may be sporting a sunstroke." 

"That makes the two of us. I should stop falling asleep in my backyard if I want to avoid permanent brain damage." 

"I think that ship has already sailed," I quip back, causing him to let out a very loud and dramatic gasp. 

"Wait, you're accusing me of having mental problems? You're the one who threw a fit over a simple word last night!" he laughs. "It was 'golden', by the way. In case you've forgotten."