When Faults Collide (Faultlines #1) (4 page)

I grabbed my flats from the basket by the door and swung the front door open. I walked past the movers who were pushing a desk up the stairs and banged on the door next door from our shared porch.

The door flung open and a guy opened the door wearing a black tee and loose fitted jeans. He clearly thought I was the moving guys and his eyes widened when he saw me.

“Listen. I understand that you are moving. I get that moving is noisy. But see this wall right here?” I said, pointing to the wall that connected our houses.

He nodded and started to talk “Um, miss—”

“No... listen. I get that moving is noisy, but I work from home. And all I can hear, despite having my music on my headphones going full blast, is banging and talking. I get it. I really do. But come on, dude, cut me a break here. I have to work, you have to move. Can you just try to move a little quieter and I will keep my headphones on?”

“Um, miss—” he started again.

“I’m just asking for it to be a little quieter. That’s all. Just a little quieter,” I interrupted again.

A hand tapped his shoulder and he moved out of the way.

“Sorry, I’m actually the one moving,” a voice said as he walked towards the door.

“Mmhm. Okay, well could
you
please keep everyone a little quieter then?” I asked, waiting for him to get in front of me.

Then, standing in front of me was the guy I literally fell into at Buzzy’s that morning. My mouth dropped.

“Yep. I’m sorry about that. You work from home?” he asked with
a grin on his face.

“Um...yeah,” I said, taking a step backwards, privately cursing myself for my extremely rude behavior.

He chuckled and extended his hand.

“Blake.” He said.

“Um...Asha,” I responded, taking his hand. My eyes widened when I felt a spark from our contact.

“Asha? That’s funny—” he started.

I jerked my hand back, shaking my head.

“Yep, it’s different. Okay, well thanks. See ya,” I said, scurrying back to my house.

I rested my back against my door, breathing out. Lily had been watching from our front window.

“Ash! He is gorgeous! What is wrong with you? Go back and talk to that man!” she said, her eyes wide with shock.

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m going back to work. Good luck with your audition. Break a leg and all that.”

I started walking up the stairs.

“Oh you impossible woman!” she cried after me.

I just kept shaking my head.

No, this was not going to happen. I was going to continue going on with my life. I did not have time for men.

Somehow I think I knew, even then, that I was going to break my own rules.

Chapter Three

      
My rules are there for a reason. It gives
me a
way to be grounded, to know that I am in control and that my control can’t be taken from me
.

      
The most important of these rules, which I blog about often, is rule number one: no romantic relationships. Romance, or love, it causes you to give your emotional wellbeing to another person. This is not something I am willing to do. Rule number three: go for a run every morning. This rule helps to bring balance into my life
.

      
So what do I do when I’m following my own rules, and then suddenly life throws me a curveball? I’ve never had a problem following my rules. Ever. Hell, they’re my rules after all
.

      
So when faced with a dilemma today, what did I do? I ran away. That is something I can most certainly say I am good at doing
.

      
He will not tempt me with his emerald eyes that would make even Mother Theresa swoon. I do not date. Attraction is a normal thing, and I’ve been attracted to guys before
,
so
why did this one affect me?

      
And then, to make matters worse, why did the only person who has affected me decide to MOVE IN NEXT DOOR!?

      
*Sigh* What can a girl do?

      
The only logical solution I see here is that I’m going to have to move
.

      
Leave me some comment love folks
.

xoxo, Asha


I minimized the window for Blogger and got up to find an outfit for tonight. Lily texted me to tell me that I better be dressed in a manner that would not embarrass her.

God forbid I let her down.

I opened the door to one of my wardrobes and pulled out a few options. I tried them all on and took pictures of each, and then created a collage and posted it to Instagram to have my readers vote on an outfit.

While I waited for a response I called my dad to check in.

“Asha! How are you baby?” he bellowed, his voice warm and comforting.

“Hey Dad. I’m good. Busy with work, but it’s all good. What are you doing?” I put him on speaker so I could work on getting my hair into a bun.

“Oh you know. Kicking ass and taking names.”

I giggled. “Just the usual then.”

He chuckled “Yep. Well, I’m glad you called, baby. Marcy wants to know if you are free to drive up and have dinner with us on Sunday?”

My dad married Marcy a few months after my seventeenth birthday. As far as stepmoms go, she was a gem. We had a
wonderful relationship and she made my dad happy, which made me happy. She had no children so I was the only child for both of them and they cherished me.

“Um, maybe next Sunday. This weekend I’ve got to knock out some of my projects because I may be starting a new one next week and I need to get as much done before then as possible,” I said clearly, despite the fact that I was holding bobby pins between my teeth.

“Okay honey, sounds good. I told Roger that I won’t be working any more Sundays, so either one will work for us.”

My dad was the CEO of a venture capital firm in Washington DC and was about to retire. Roger, his company president, was set to take over once my dad retired.

Marcy and my dad live in Tyson’s Corner, which is a city outside of DC but a quick commute to the capitol.

“So, honey, anything else going on? Any men that I need to rough up?”

I giggled. “No, Dad. You know I don’t date.”

He sighed deeply, “I know, baby, but at some point don’t you want to meet a nice guy and settle down?”

I pursed my lips and put the finishing touches on my bun.

“Dad, that’s just not in the cards for me right now. Maybe someday I’ll think about it.”

“Asha, sweetheart—” he started.

I interrupted him, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. “Okay, Dad. I gotta go. I’m going out with Lily and Tom tonight and I have to get ready.”

He let out a frustrated breath. “Okay. Have fun with your friends. You going to see Katherine tomorrow?”

Katherine is my therapist.

“Yep. Every Friday. You know this. Okay, love you, Dad. Bye!” I said before hanging up.

I checked my notifications and picked up the outfit that was voted for: a cobalt skirt with a white boyfriend tank. I opened up my jewelry case and pulled out a chunky white necklace and cobalt studded earrings. I paired a cute cream colored clutch with the outfit and called it complete.

I went to the bathroom to add some lip gloss before heading downstairs. I didn’t wear makeup, but liked glossing up my lips before going out.

I grabbed some tan sandals from the basket by the door and slipped them on before stepping outside.

I turned to lock the door and heard some movement from the other side of the porch. I turned my head to look, knowing good and well what I was going to see.

Sure enough, sitting in a chair he had perched up next to his door was Blake.

He was still wearing the Pac-Man shirt, but was now in basketball shorts and barefoot. He was sipping a Rolling Rock with a book in his hands.

He grinned at me, his green eyes shining through his dark rimmed glasses.

“Asha! Were we quieter for you after you left? I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh, um... yeah,” I said, embarrassed. “Sorry about being so rude. I really get into the zone when I’m working.”

I clicked the lock and checked that the door was locked.

“Nice to see you again,” I said, turning to go down the stairs.

“Wait, Asha, listen—” he said, standing up.

“No, no. It’s fine. Look, I have to go. See ya later!” I said quickly
before bounding down the stairs.

I walked around to the door of my Fiat and clicked the button to unlock the door. I scooted in, turned the key in the ignition, turned up the radio, and started driving.

Legends is across the James River in a part of town called Manchester. It’s still an up and coming area, but with Legends, Dogtown Theater, and lots of cool renovated warehouse lofts, it’s a very trendy place to be.

I parked my car on the street, dinging the alarm as I got out, and walked across the street into the pub.

I waved to Lily, who was already sitting on the patio with Tom and Beatrice. I joined them quickly, kissing everyone on the cheek before sitting down.

“Gus and his vixen haven’t joined yet?” I questioned coyly.

Beatrice hooted. “No, thank God. Apparently Mandy’s band had to audition for a new gig, and Gus is going with her. So they aren’t coming.”

Beatrice was beautiful, with dark skin, chestnut eyes, and the most gorgeous wild curls. She had a more rebellious look, complete with a lip and nose piercing, a sleeve tattoo going down her right arm, and an armband tattoo around her left. She was sporting a ripped denim mini skirt with a black tank top and a cropped leather jacket.

She was a jewelry designer and sold her pieces at the farmers markets every weekend. She also had a very successful Etsy shop which was the bulk of her business.

“Well thank God for that. I couldn’t possibly stand another night out with that troll!” Lily exclaimed, linking her hand with Tom’s.

“Come on, Lils, you know you love her,” Tom said teasingly before kissing her on the cheek.

She batted him away playfully. He laughed and pulled her in closer.

Tom looked like he came straight out of a Hollister catalogue and myself and Lily told him many times that he missed his calling and should have gone into modeling.

He was fit and perfectly sculpted, and had a very prep school look that suited him perfectly. With his blonde hair and baby blue eyes, he looked Scandinavian, which complemented Lily’s natural blond hair perfectly.

I was convinced that their children would end up in Hollywood. Should they ever decide to settle down and go that route, that is.

Going domestic wasn’t common in the art world. With our crazy schedules, unpredictable income, and general chaos that took over our lives, the typical get-married-and-have-children route didn’t always strike all of us.

Lily had been fairly successful, but Tom went through rough patches. He was a painter and sold his work through local art shows and at the farmer’s market. He did a lot of privately commissioned work too, but all of that was up and down; while some months were wonderful, other times he couldn’t sell a painting for months on end. He was amazing, and I was surprised he hadn’t been more successful, but that’s the art world. Lots of very talented people never end up successful.

The waitress showed up and we ordered a round of drinks. Craft beer was a new love of mine, and luckily I lived in the perfect city to experiment.

“So, Ash, read anything interesting this week?” Tom asked with a playful gleam in his eyes.

Our taste in books was night and day, and he loved to tease me for my tastes.

“I finally finished
As I Lay Dying.”
I said cheerily.

“That’s so dull, Ash.” Lily said pouting and putting her hands on her chin.

I shrugged my shoulder and pulled out my phone to Tweet.

Beatrice snorted. “Come on, Lil. What do you expect? We didn’t go to private school. We wouldn’t get it.”