When Faults Collide (Faultlines #1) (5 page)

I rolled my eyes and scrolled through my newsfeed.

After coming to America, I had never had a formal education but was light years ahead of my peers in reading and writing. The fact that I was bilingual made me even more marketable to private schools. My math skills, however, were deplorable.

My father hired a private tutor and I spent a year catching up to grade level in math, and then he enrolled me at Maret, one of the most prestigious private schools in DC.

While I excelled academically, socially I was completely lost. Then he found Katherine and we started driving to Richmond every week for my therapy.

Between therapy and his new relationship with Marcy, which began shortly after my fourteenth birthday, I started learning social norms and slowly came around at school. I still made very little real connections, and didn’t start to thrive socially until college. Then I started blogging and learned how to be a social butterfly... just online.

Truth be told Lily and Tom were my first real friends. They were
the first ones I ever opened up to about my past that didn’t look at me with pity or like I was infected with the plague. Then when I started blogging and getting all of my support from readers, I started to see that there are people who would accept my past and still support me.

I sipped my IPA and took in the gorgeous city views from the patio seat.

“So, I hear you have a dishy new neighbor,” Beatrice said coyly.

“Lily, Jesus Christ, did you tell everyone?” I said flustered.

She giggled. “Maybe. There may have been a Tweet or two.”

I pursed my lips and shook my head. “Honestly Lily, it’s not like you’ve never seen a hot guy before.”

She pointed her finger at me accusingly. “Ha! So you admit that he’s gorgeous?!”

“How about you worry about
your
gorgeous man and let me sip on this drink in peace?” I muttered.

Several hours later, Lily decided she was going to spend the night at Tom’s, so I drove home solo. Lily was a little inebriated; I, however, had limited myself to my one drink at the beginning of the night, which had long since worn off. I blasted Bruno Mars and drove back home with my windows down.

As I pulled up in front of my house, rolled my windows up and got out of my car.

I quickly scanned the porch and saw that Blake was no longer sitting outside. I let out a breath, and hurried up to the door, quickly unlocking the door and letting myself inside.

I slipped out of my sandals and dropped them into the basket, then trekked upstairs to my room.

I slipped out of my clothes, tossing my jewelry back into its box, and grabbed a comfortable pair of fleece pajamas from the drawer
below my wardrobe. I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face before getting to bed.

As I walked back into my bedroom, I thought about Blake. Was he sleeping on the other side of my wall? Could he hear me in here?

I shook away my thoughts. I didn’t need to worry about what he was doing because he didn’t matter.

That’s when I heard the music.

“No way,” I whispered.

The Lumineers
Stubborn Love
was playing softly through the wall. It was one of my favorite songs, and obviously Blake had no idea why I loved the lyrics so much.

Talk about a crazy coincidence. I decided to Tweet my favorite quote.

I plugged my phone into the spare charger on my nightstand and climbed into bed. I heard my phone ding a notification, which was nothing new, but decided to turn them off for the night.

I swiped my phone on, and then saw the comment left on Twitter. I gasped.

“Well, shit,” I said before turning my phone off and throwing my arm over my eyes.

Chapter Four

“So are you upset because he follows your Tweets or because you Tweeted about him to begin with?” Katherine asked me from across the table, sticking a piece of pastry in her mouth.

She was pretty nontraditional as far as therapists go. Sometimes we met in her office, but many times like today, we met at a restaurant in the city and just chatted like friends. She was my fifth therapist and her model of talking to me like a person and a friend instead of like a client is the only reason she was able to get through to me.

Despite my disagreements with her, I valued her input on things in my life. She knew the whole story, the things that Lily, Tom, my dad, and Marcy would never hear about. She knew it all.

I breathed out in frustration. “I don’t know. I don’t want to censor what I write about. But I also don’t check every follower. I get new followers every day. I’m annoyed that he knows he got to me. That’s what I’m annoyed about. What if he reads my blog?”

She shrugged. “Why not? If you really never have any intention of talking to this guy romantically, then he’s just another reader. If you were thinking you may like to get to know him, your blog is a great way for him to learn about you and your story.”

I pursed my lips. “Well, I am not interested in
anything with
him. Nothing. I just don’t like it.”

She laughed. “Asha, you’ve been seeing me for almost nine years. You’ve had a lot of guys show interest in you. You have never once been flustered at conversation with them, nor have you spent any length of time talking about them with me. So, obviously, you have some interest there.”

I nodded. “Right, but how can I
un
-interest myself?”

She chuckled again. “I don’t think it works that way, dear. It’s okay to be interested in a guy.”

I opened my mouth to protest but she continued.

“I get it. Your rules. But Asha, we’ve talked about your rules before. You cannot live your life in a bubble and refuse to let anyone in romantically.”

I nodded again. “Yes I can.”

She shook her head at me. “No, you can’t. You will end up my age and miserable. Surrounded by cats. Is that the future that you want?”

I smirked. “So
that’s
what this is. You projecting your misery onto my life. I’m onto you, doc.”

She bellowed out. “Hahaha! My dear girl. You keep me young, that’s for sure!”

I folded my hands in front of me. The cinnamon roll sitting in front of me was only half eaten.

“Seriously, though. Why, after every guy I’ve ever met, even guys I’ve been attracted to, why can I not stop thinking about
this
guy?”

She shrugged, taking another bite of pastry. “I’m not sure, Asha. Maybe you connected in some way. Some people just have that chemical and spiritual connection. Who knows? You will never know until you talk to the guy. It couldn’t hurt to be his friend.”

I processed what she was saying and took a sip of my iced mocha.

She put her hand over mine. “You have come so far. You have survived. You have endured more in your young life than many people ever experience. And you have become the most amazing, independent, smart, and beautiful young woman. But your fear in relationships is the one piece that you’re still lacking. If you continue to let that fear rule your life, you are remaining the victim, and your attacker—the one who took so much from you that afternoon—he wins. Is that what you want?”

I felt a tear betray me and slide down my cheek. I wiped it away forcefully before looking down at the table.

“No. That’s not what I want,” I said quietly.

She nodded and rubbed her thumb over the top of my hand. “Then just talk to the boy. Friendship, Asha. That’s all I’m telling you to start with.”

I sighed deeply, but nodded.

“Besides, he could be a total toad and you may not want to spend more than five minutes with him.”

We both giggled before wrapping up the end of our “session.”

I drove home and devised a plan. Yes, a plan. This is how I would keep my control. I would get through my weekend and get all of my work finished up, I would meet with my new client on Monday, and then I would try to reach out casually in conversation. Friendly conversation. Yep, that’s how I was going to make this work.

I pulled my car into my spot in front of the house and saw that
Lily was sitting on the porch with none other than Blake.

“Damnit,” I muttered.

I decided on a quick new plan. Be polite, make quick, casual conversation, then go inside and get back to the original plan. Yes, this would work.

I slid out of my seat and closed the door.

“Ash!” Lily called to me from the porch.

I smiled and started walking up the stairs.

“Hey Lils. Blake.” I nodded towards him.

He grinned at me. “Hey.”

“So Blake and I were just talking about music. You two have similar taste! All over the place!” Lily said.

Oh, I was so onto her game.

“You don’t say?” I said.

“Nothing wrong with appreciating an array of good music.” Blake said, winking at me.

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Obviously I hadn’t told Lily about my mortifying Twitter experience.

“Any plans this weekend, Ash?” Lily asked, taking a sip from the Rolling Rock in her hand.

“Um, yeah. I have to get my work finished up. I’m meeting that new client on Monday and I want to be totally caught up before then.”

“Asha is a fabulous graphic designer.” Lily said nodding in my direction.

“Yeah, I know.” Blake said, his eyes glimmering slightly mischievously.

So he had read my blog. That’s the only way he would have known that. Holy hell. My cheeks were on fire now.

I
so
can’t do this right now. I thought to myself.

“And actually, Asha—” he started.

I interrupted him. “Sorry, I really don’t have time to chat right now. I’ve got to get this work finished. See ya later though.”

He chuckled. “Okay. Well, enjoy working.”

Lily stared at me open mouthed.

I turned the knob and headed inside.

I spent the entire weekend plugging away at my projects. By Sunday evening I had completed every single one. I felt accomplished and proud. This was definitely a Tweet worthy moment.