Chapter 1: Introduction
Standing on the porch of her first floor apartment, Ashna watched as the movers drove away, leaving him with his luggage.
The new neighbor, a man who looked like he’d been carved from something solid and patient, effortlessly lifted heavy looking suitcases in each hand and carried them up the single flight of stairs into his apartment -- the one next to hers.
She couldn't help notice how his arm muscles flexed while lifting the bags, or how toned his body appeared under the t-shirt. He appeared to be in his late 40s or early 50s -- nearly twice my age, she thought , but it wasn’t the years that caught her attention. It was the way he carried himself: steady, unhurried, and completely at ease in his own skin, a stark contrast to the restless energy of the last man she’d let into her life. He had been fun while it lasted, but that was behind her, though she didn't much care for the dry spell it had forced on her for the past few months.
"Welcome neighbor," Ashna called out, knocking on the open door of his apartment, eying the boxes and bags the movers had left behind. He emerged from the kitchen, where he must have been unpacking and smiled warmly when he saw her.
"Thank you," he said walking up to her, wiping his hands on a rag. He looked at them and then at her, silently apologizing for not offering a handshake because of dirty hands, "Victor sounds better than neighbor." He said, smiling warmly.
"Ashna," she replied, leaning against the doorframe, her gaze flicking over the half-unpacked boxes. "I live next door." she said waving her hand towards her apartment, "looks like you could do with some help here."
Ashna pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, her sandals clicking softly against the hardwood floors. The apartment smelled faintly of sawdust and fresh paint, that new place scent that always carried the promise of possibilities.
Victor watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before giving a small nod. "I won’t turn it down," he admitted, tossing the rag onto a nearby box.
"How about I take over the kitchen while you take care of whatever you need unboxed next?" She asked eying the boxes.
"Sounds like a plan," he said, leading her to the kitchen, "just holler if you need any help. I will be in the bedroom unboxing my clothes.
She got busy putting away utensils and was done getting his kitchen organized in about an hour, her top and hair damp with sweat in the summer heat. She could hear him in the bedroom, the occasional thud of furniture being moved around, the rustle of plastic wrapping.
"Need any help with those?" she asked, stepping into the doorway of the bedroom watching him put away clothes from a box into the closet. She smiled inwardly as his eyes lingered just a little too long on her sweaty body.
"If you know where the sheets and pillows are, maybe I can get those unboxed for you." Ashna said, stepping further into the bedroom.
Victor glanced at a box next to the one containing his clothes and she stepped right up to it. She noticed him freeze at the sight of her cleavage as she bent over to open the box. The damp fabric of her tank top clung to her skin, and she didn’t bother adjusting it. After a moment, he turned away and got busy arranging his clothes in the closet.
Ashna chucked silently. She knew exactly what she was doing. She had never been one for subtlety, and she wasn’t about to start now.
She pulled out a set of crisp sheets, the fabric cool and smooth under her fingers. "I guess the bed needs to be set up before I can do anything with these," she said.
She tossed the sheets onto the mattress, which was still leaning against the wall, eying the antique looking metal bed frame *looks heavy* she thought.
Victor turned from the closet and looked at the disassembled bed frame lying in pieces across the floor. "I was going to get to that next," he admitted, running a hand through his hair, "all it really needs are the wheels to be attached to the legs." He gestured towards the scattered metal parts, "but I can manage."
Ashna didn’t move. She just stood there, her arms crossed, watching him with a faint smirk. "Nonsense, you hold up the frame and I will get the wheels attached." She said squatting on the floor next to the bed frame and gathering the parts around her.
She picked up the wheels and the wrench and looked at him expectantly, "Are you just going to stand and stare? Not that I mind, but the frame isn't going to lift itself you know." Ashna said, her voice teasing but her tone firm. She was already on her knees, the wrench in her hand, the wheels and bolts scattered around her.
Victor smiled and stepped forward. He grabbed the edge of the frame and hoisted it up effortlessly. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he held it steady, the weight balanced in his hands like it was nothing. Ashna knelt on the floor, the wrench in her grip, her fingers brushing against the cold metal of the bolts. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his presence filled the room without him saying a word.
She tightened the first wheel, her knuckles grazing his fingers as she adjusted the angle. She leaned in slightly, her shoulder brushing against his thigh as she worked, her playful side hoping that he was enjoying the show she was putting on. The second wheel slipped out of her hand and rolled next to his feet. She fetched it, bending forward and smiling silently at what that would be putting on display for him.
She deliberately took her time, wondering when the weight would start straining his muscles and the frame would start wobbling in his hands. But he didn’t budge. Didn’t even shift his stance. He just stood there, steady as a damn statue, watching her with that quiet intensity that made her skin hum.
Ashna tightened the last bolt, her fingers lingering just a second too long against the metal. "There," she said, sitting back on her heels. "Didn’t expect you to last that long." she said looking up at him. He smiled -- the smiled told her he caught the double meaning and let it slide.
The moment passed when he reached for the mattress. She watched as he set it on the frame.
"How about I fix us sandwiches? I'm famished." Ashna said, stretching her arms above her head, her tank top riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of toned stomach and pierced navel. She stood, brushing off her denim shorts, and Victor’s gaze flicked down before meeting hers again, his expression unreadable.
"I could eat," he admitted, his voice low. "But I don’t have any groceries."
She smirked. "Lucky for you, I do." She turned toward the door, then paused, glancing back at him. "Be right back, don't go anywhere."
He chucked as she breezed out of the bedroom and his apartment.
Victor exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
The woman was a whirlwind—effortless, unapologetic, and entirely unconcerned with the way she disrupted the air around her. He watched her go, the sway of her hips deliberate, the way she moved like she already knew the space was hers to claim.
He adjusted the mattress, smoothing out the sheets she’d unboxed. He was unboxing stuff in the living room a short while later when she returned with a Tupperware container in one hand and a coffee pot in the other.
"Lunch break," she announced, heading straight to the dining area as if she owned the place.
She set the Tupperware container down on the table and placed the coffee pot beside it. They bumped into each other as both headed towards the kitchen to get plates and coffee mugs.
Ashna stumbled slightly, her hands instinctively reaching out to steady herself against Victor’s chest. His hands shot out to catch her, gripping her waist firmly.
"Whoa, sorry about that." he said holding her, his fingers pressed into the soft curve of her waist, warm and steady. Ashna didn't pull away. Instead, she tilted her head back just enough to meet his gaze, her lips parting slightly as if she might say something—maybe an apology, maybe a joke.
"Apology accepted," she said playfully before straightening up and heading to the cabinet as if this happened to her everyday -- it probably did, he thought with a chuckle. She pulled out two coffee mugs, setting them down on the counter with a soft clink as he got plates and a roll of paper napkin.
"Black or with cream?" she asked, glancing back at him.
"Black," he replied, watching as she poured the steaming coffee into the mugs. The rich aroma filled the room. She handed him a mug, their fingers brushing for just a second, and he felt the heat of her skin linger against his.
Ashna popped open the Tupperware container and set a couple sandwiches on his plate before getting one for herself.
"So what's your story Vicky?" she said before taking a bite of her sandwich.
*Vicky?* She had just invented a nickname for him, as if they'd known each other forever. He smiled.
"Vicky, huh? I guess you don't care for Victor." He said taking a sip of coffee and reaching for a sandwich.
"Oh shoot." she said swallowing, "Sorry, I didn't mean to assume. You don't strike me as a Victor. You're too... relaxed for that. You just felt like... Vicky you know?" She said waving her hand at him.
He chuckled. "No, it's fine. I like my new name. Goes with the new place I guess." He said taking a bite of his sandwich.
Ashna leaned back in her chair, watching him eat. "So? Your story?" she asked again, her tone light but curious.
Victor wiped his mouth with a napkin, considering. "Not much to tell. My wife passed just over a year ago, and the house we shared felt too big, too empty. I figured it was time for a fresh start in a new place. Sold the house last month and decided to move." He said simply, not looking for pity or sympathy.
"Sorry to hear that," Ashna said, her voice softening just a touch.
Victor took another bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "Life," he said smiling warmly at her. "What's your story... Ashna... or should I call you Ash? Nickname for a Nickname."
Ashna stuck her tongue out at him in a teasing gesture, "As it happens, Ash IS my nickname, nice try." She said laughing lightly, before posing regally, "but I don't mind either way. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Ashna said, raising her coffee mug in a mock toast. "But I like the way you say my name. It feels like you’re tasting it." She took a slow sip, her eyes never leaving his.
Victor set his mug down, leaning back in his chair. "I don’t know about that," he said, his voice low. "But I do know you’re trouble."
She grinned, unapologetic. "The best kind."
The air between them hummed, charged with something unspoken. Ashna reached for another sandwich, her fingers brushing against his as she pulled the plate closer. The contact was brief, but deliberate. Victor didn’t pull away.
"Your story?" he said finally.
"Damn, you don't let go do you?" She said playfully , her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm not that interesting, really. Just a girl who likes fun, knows what she wants and isn't afraid to take it." She said, leaning forward slightly, her elbows resting on the table. "I was with someone for a while, but he wanted more and started getting clingy. So I ended it. No drama, no tears, just... done." She said shrugging casually. "And now here I am, living my best life, one day at a time."