by Mona Kasten
Contents
About the Book
About the Author
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Begin Again Playlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
A Chat with Mona
About the Book
He makes the rules. She breaks them all.
A new start. It’s the only thing keeping Allie Harper going, when she packs up her life and moves across the country to Woodshill, Oregon. She’s about to start college, desperate to leave the ghosts of her past behind her. Even if that means never talking to her parents again.
Now the hard part—finding an apartment before classes start. Just when it seems she’ll have to live out of her car, Allie visits one more place. It’s beautiful. With one exception: can she stand being roommates with campus bad boy Kaden White? Sure, Kaden is sexy with his tattoos and careless attitude, but he’s also an arrogant jerk. With nowhere else to go, Allie moves in.
The first thing Kaden does is make a set of rules. Either Allie obeys, or she’s out:
1. Don’t talk about your girl problems.
2. Keep your mouth shut if I bring someone home.
3. We will NEVER hook up.
Easy enough, thinks Allie. Who would want to get involved with a brute like Kaden? But the more she gets to know him, the more she sees beyond his gruff façade. He, too, is harboring some painful secrets. For Kaden and Allie, it gets harder and harder to ignore the sparks between them. And the lines between the rules start to blur …
About the Author
Mona Kasten was born in Germany in 1992. Before devoting herself to writing, she studied Library and Information Science. She lives with her husband, cats, and countless books in northern Germany. She loves all forms of caffeine and taking long walks in the woods. Her favorite days are the ones when she can block out the world and just write. Mona loves to interact with her readers on Twitter @MonaKasten. Her website (in German) is www.monakasten.de
MONA KASTEN
begin again
Translated from the German by
Toby Axelrod
»be« by BASTEI ENTERTAINMENT
Digital original edition
»be« by Bastei Entertainment is an imprint of Bastei Lübbe AG
This title was acquired through the literary agency Langenbuch & Weiß GbR, Rellinger Straße 15, 20257 Hamburg, Germany
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This book was translated into American English.
Copyright © 2017 by Bastei Lübbe AG,
Schanzenstraße 6–20, 51063 Cologne, Germany
“A Beautiful Lie” by 30 Seconds to Mars © Universal Music –
Z Tunes LLC / Apocraphex Music ASCAP o/b/o Jared Leto
With permission from IMAGEM Music GmbH, Berlin
Written by Mona Kasten
Translated from the German by Toby Axelrod
Edited by Lori Herber-Griffin
Cover design: ZERO Werbeagentur GmbH
Cover photos: FinePic®, München
eBook production: Greiner & Reichel, Köln
ISBN 978-3-7325-4498-1
www.be-ebooks.com
Twitter: @be_ebooks_com
For Christian, my biggest supporter
begin again playlist
Brain – Banks
Waiting Game – Banks
Feel Real – Deptford Goth
Meet you There – Busted
Can’t break Thru – Busted
Strong – One Direction
Right Now – One Direction
Ocean Avenue – Yellowcard
Breathing – Yellowcard
Irresistible – Fall Out Boy
The Kids Aren’t Alright – Fall Out Boy
Fourth of July – Fall Out Boy
I Wish you Would – Taylor Swift
New Romantics – Taylor Swift
Red – Taylor Swift
Fearless – Taylor Swift
A Beautiful Lie – Thirty Seconds to Mars
Attack – Thirty Seconds to Mars
Jealous – Nick Jonas
Where are Ü Now – Jack Ü, Skrillex, Diplo, Justin Bieber
Chapter 1
White.
I stared at the nameplate by the doorbell. Tilting my head, I lifted my finger, then hesitated. I clenched my hand into a fist. The drama of the last few days rushed through my head all over again.
Weeks of fighting with my parents. One thousand seven hundred miles. A twenty-four-hour drive. It was all behind me now. I’d arrived in Woodshill two nights ago, crashing in a run-down hostel. For the first few hours I’d fought the urge to turn back. But now things were clear.
Because I’d made it. I was here.
Actually, things hadn’t exactly started out as expected. Of course I’d had a glimpse of my new home from a distance; it was like I already knew the mountains of Oregon, the endless forests, and even the university campus, thanks to the Internet. Yesterday was freshman orientation on campus, and then I went to check out some apartments I’d found online. It turned out to be a waste of time, because they were all complete dumps. But I didn’t care. I had arrived in Oregon.
Freedom.
It was the only thing that had kept me going these past few months. Now I could start my own life, do things the way I wanted. The past nineteen years had been so damned suffocating.
To my parents, appearances were everything. My hair was colored to fade into the perfect golden ombré, and I wore only the best labels. Chanel. Hermès. Saint Laurent. I could flash a charming smile practically at the touch of a button. I had to be perfect little daughter—or at least look the part. So that’s why my first act as a college student had been to hit up the nearest beauty salon for a drastic cut and color. No more long, blonde tresses: Now my cheeks were framed with unruly brown fringes. For the first time in years, I kept my own natural wave. Mom wouldn’t have approved.
Every time my short-cropped hair tickled my cheeks, it reminded me that I was finally allowed to be me. It was my first step toward freedom, and even if it seems silly, I felt like an entirely new person.
Unfortunately even my new style hadn’t helped much with the apartment search. Unlike most incoming freshmen, I hadn’t applied for a place in the dorms—I wanted to be out on my own.
But the clock was ticking. Only a handful of apart
ments were still available, and I could write them all off as total disasters.
At the first one, my potential roommate was more interested in my bra size than in my bad habits. Gross. Just the thought of that pervert gives me the creeps. Then there was the young mother who not only wanted a roommate but also a live-in babysitter. Not much better. At apartment number six, I met a couple who were practically going at it during my visit—and asked me to join in. All the other places were either trashed or contaminated with mold. Somehow, I’d thought finding a place would be easier.
Which is probably why I couldn’t bring myself to ring the last doorbell of the day. The letters on the nameplate were illuminated from behind, and burned into my retinas.
White.
This was it. There weren’t any other available apartments near campus. If I couldn’t move in here next week, I’d be out on the street. Everything else seemed to be booked out for the start of the school year.
I needed this place. I didn’t even care that I’d be rooming with a guy, because if I didn’t get this place, I’d have to find a park bench for the start of the semester, or make a cozy little home in my car. Whatever happened, no way was I going back to Lincoln, Nebraska. Never. I was starting over here, whatever the cost. And if I had to spend a few nights in the open air, so be it. Anything but Nebraska.
I pressed the doorbell and waited, inhaling the warm evening air. I hardly noticed the pressure rising in my chest.
One, two, three …
Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. I counted to myself and squeezed my eyes shut.
Finally the buzzer sounded to let me in. I took another breath before pushing the door open.
Mr. White—I didn’t know his first name at that point—had mentioned in his email that the apartment was on the second floor, left. As I set foot on the stairs, I heard a door open upstairs and then the sound of muffled voices.
“You’ve got my number,” a female voice purred.
Someone cleared his throat. “You know that I … ”
“Nothing serious, I get it. You made that perfectly clear.”
Followed by a slurpy sound. Were they making out in the hallway? I listened more closely. Before I knew it, footsteps from above were approaching me on the stairway.
A light breeze wafted over me, and I looked up: She passed me on the stairs, the girl who’d left the apartment that I was about to enter. She didn’t seem to see me as she floated down the stairs with a blissful, dreamy smile. Considering her reddened cheeks and tousled hair, I could imagine what she’d just been up to.
Oh man.
Frowning, I climbed the last few steps. Mr. White was nowhere to be seen. I walked down the corridor and looked to either side. On my left, a door stood open a crack. That had to be it.
I pushed the door in and hesitated at the threshold.
The hallway was neat, and I could see a few jackets hanging on the wall. Various sneakers, a few work boots, and hiking boots were lined up in a tidy row. Appreciatively, I raised my eyebrows: The shoe collection revealed eclectic interests. I took the plunge, crossing the threshold, and entered the narrow hallway.
“Sorry, dude!” A muted voice bellowed from the room that opened directly onto the hallway. “I’ve been trying forever to get her out of here without looking like an ass. But some people can’t take a hint.”
Wow. He sounded like a winner.
The voice got louder. “I know this apartment showing was planned last-minute, but glad it still worked out.”
I heard his footsteps as he approached.
“If you’ve got a girl, too, that’s fine. At least as long as—”
Mr. White appeared in the doorway. And it wasn’t only his mouth that dropped open.
I gasped, too.
The first thing I noticed was his torso. His naked, taut belly rippling with muscles. Then his tattoos. I tilted my head and looked at the designs inked onto his tanned skin.
Holy mother of God.
He cleared his throat and shook me out of my trance.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I stared at him open-mouthed. He wasn’t much older than I was, maybe a year or two. He had warm, caramel-colored eyes, stubbly cheeks, and brown hair that was longer on the top and shorter on the sides.
Finally my voice came back. “We had an appointment. I’m here to see the apartment. We emailed,” my words gushed out too fast.
Mr. White cocked his head and glared at me. “A. Harper … ” he muttered. And then something seemed to click in his head. “Why the hell didn’t you sign your email with your first name? I assumed you were a guy.”
I didn’t feel like explaining to him that I was still getting used to my new identity, hence just the initial. He let his eyes wander over my entire body for a second time; his features darkened, and he shook his head slowly. “No.”
No? I was about to retort when he repeated: “No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” I folded my arms in front of my chest. “I can pull up the email on my phone if you need proof.”
“It must have been a misunderstanding. You’re definitely not moving in here,” he said and turned away. Then he disappeared into who knows where. All I knew was that I hadn’t even seen the damned apartment. “Let yourself out,” he called back over his shoulder.
My mouth dropped open again.
The guy had actually left me standing alone in the hallway without even giving me a chance. Not even one word of my prepared speech. The last forty-eight hours had been filled with so much crap, but this … this pushed me over the edge.
I blew a fuse and stomped after Mr. White.
“Hey!” I yelled, marching into what looked like a well-lit, cozy living room. The jerk stopped mid-stride and turned to face me, his eyebrows knit in anger as I shouted, “You can’t just throw me out without even showing me the place!”
Something like shock flashed through his warm, brown eyes; it didn’t fit with his cold aura. “See if I can’t.” Now he crossed his arms.
“Well, you can’t. We emailed, dammit! You invited me to check out the apartment, so I should at least be able to see the room and have the chance to convince you that I’d be a good roommate.” I tried not to snarl.
“Like I said, there’s been a misunderstanding. I thought you were a dude. But you’re definitely not.” He gave me another dismissive once-over. “I’m looking for a male roommate. Not a female.” He practically spat out the word.
By now, my rage was about to boil over. The other apartment viewings had been bad, but this one took the cake.
“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through the last two days?” I spat, and my pulse skyrocketed. “In one place, a guy was sitting in his kitchen in his underwear—his UNDERWEAR—and asked me my bra size. In three apartments, I was told that sexual favors were part of the rent; in another I was told I’d have to be the nanny; and twice I could barely keep my potential roommates from going at it right in front of me!” By now I was almost yelling, but it didn’t occur to me to lower my voice. The avalanche was flowing full-force at this point. “I saw rooms with walls covered in black mold. I was in apartments so crammed with trash that you couldn’t even see the floor. Sometimes I couldn’t even tell if I was standing on a carpet or a pile of flattened pizza boxes. I was in apartments that smelled so much like pot that I could have gotten high just from breathing the air.” I took another step toward him and drew back my shoulders. “Things have gotten off to a shitty start for me in Woodshill, dude. So don’t tell me to just disappear. I want to see the damned room!”
The mistrust on his face had faded into general indifference, as if I were using up his precious time.
“And this is exactly why I don’t want a woman in here,” he said calmly. “I don’t need the endless whining and girly emotional stuff.”
Now adrenalin
e propelled me with such force that my shoulders shook. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to dump my problems on this guy. But sometimes I just couldn’t stop until I got it all out.
“Are you done, or do I have to take any more of this? If the answer is yes, then I’d like to dress for the occasion,” he continued in a flat voice. His indifference only spurred me on.
“Fine,” I hissed, turning my back. Walking out, I could hear a phone ringing: the ringtone was a song by the group Fall Out Boy. Wow, the jerk actually had good taste in music.
Tears burned in my eyes as I faced the door. I didn’t want to go back to Lincoln, back to a life that was so fake and scripted.
My entire personality had been a façade that my mother had manipulated according to her wishes. I’d only realized it about three years ago—when I learned just how far she was willing to go. That day my trust in her was shattered into a thousand pieces. I’d thought my mom would always protect me. But instead she’d just heaped more and more lies on me, until I could barely stand under their weight. After that, nothing was ever the same.
I swallowed hard and tried to banish the negative thoughts.
By now my hands were shaking with frustration. I overheard the jerk’s muffled voice as he chatted with someone on the phone. A few second later he cursed loudly.
Again I heard his naked feet flapping on the floor, as he came to the hallway.
“Hey,” his voice rang out behind me. I turned to face him.
“What?” I barked, glaring at him.
He had put on a tight navy blue shirt that stretched over his torso. Folding his arms over his chest, he frowned at me. “My other potential roommate just jumped ship,” he said, showing me the smartphone in his hand.
“And?” I said, unconcerned, digging into my bag for my car key.
He sighed and tapped his foot so long on the floor that I had no choice but to lift my eyes.
“There will be rules,” he started after a moment’s hesitation, narrowing his eyes.
“Rules? For what, if I may ask?” I couldn’t take any more of this. I was ready to go back to the hostel and immerse myself in self-pity until I had recovered enough to look for new ads. I could really do without the drivel of unfriendly shitheads.