Begin Again: Allie and Kaden's Story

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Begin Again: Allie and Kaden's Story Page 2

by Mona Kasten


  “For you. If you want the room, there will be rules you have to stick to.” He moved his arm in a way that looked like an invitation, and turned back toward the living room. As if I would follow, just like that.

  “I don’t want your fucking room!” I shouted after him.

  He poked his head out the door again and drew his hand through his hair. “Listen, I need the money, and I’m sick of showing the place. People keep bailing on me.”

  “I wonder why.” I retorted.

  He ignored me. “And you need somewhere to stay. So stop complaining and check out the room.”

  I opened my mouth to reply but the jerk was already in the living room, not bothering to wait for my response.

  What I really wanted was to storm out and slam the door in his face. But instead I paused.

  To be honest, this hallway alone was nicer than all the apartments I’d seen—and I’d prefer to begin the semester here than on a park bench. It couldn’t hurt to take a look.

  “All right.” I stepped into the living room. Now that I’d calmed down, I could see how nicely things were arranged.

  “You already know the living room; back there is the kitchen. Here’s the bathroom,” continued the jerk, leading me through the living room. He gestured toward a half-opened door, and I caught a glimpse of pale blue tiles and a large bathtub before we came to one last door.

  “This is it. Not too big, but still better than a dorm room.”

  He turned the doorknob.

  I held my breath and walked in.

  The room was tiny. Just big enough for the essentials. But the cream-colored walls and the window that let in the last rays of daylight made up for it. Clearly no one lived here anymore—it was empty except for a desk, a white swivel chair, a small bookshelf, and a bed.

  “Don’t worry, Ethan will pick up his bed,” said the jerk with a nod toward the item in question. “You can keep the desk and shelves, if you want.”

  I nodded, tearing my eyes away from the bed. The floor of this room, too, was a rich hardwood. My eyes darted to examine every corner to see if there was even the slightest hint of dampness or mold. Everything seemed okay.

  I’d be able to study over there. And after the bed was gone, I would get a sofa bed, to save space. I could already imagine the beautiful spread that I would cover it with. And string lights! This room had to have string lights!

  Mom had always hated them; she thought they looked cheap.

  Oh yes, here I would have string lights! And I would fill the entire room with things that I’d never been allowed to have, because they didn’t meet Mom’s high standards.

  Just like this guy would hardly meet her standards—the thought bolted through my mind. She’d probably have a heart attack at first sight. Or throw up. The thought almost made me laugh.

  “I’ll take it,” I said. I turned to him and hesitated for a moment, noting his pensive expression.

  “You don’t know the rules yet,” he warned me, an amused sparkle in his eyes.

  “Shoot,” I said and turned around again. I hadn’t felt this way in any of the other rooms I’d viewed.

  Instinctively, I knew I belonged here. Whatever the rules.

  Mr. No-way-will-I-live-with-a-female walked slowly toward the desk. He leaned back against it, his arms still crossed in front of him. His pose didn’t seem offensive anymore—actually the opposite.

  “First of all,” he raised a finger, “don’t bother me with your girl stuff. I don’t give a shit about your private life. So don’t impose your company on me. We won’t have any ‘girl’s nights’ in my living room. I pick the TV channel, and you don’t come crying to me about your problems.”

  “I can live with that,” I replied coolly.

  “Second,” he continued unmoved, “keep your mouth shut if I hook up with someone. I don’t need anyone telling me what to do in my own home.”

  “I don’t give a shit who you’re with,” I shot back, but looked toward the door a bit concerned. True, his room was on the opposite end of the apartment, but who knew how loud he could get? I frowned. Hopefully I wouldn’t notice if he was getting it on with someone.

  “And finally … ” He pushed away from the desk and leaned in toward me. He was a few inches taller, and I had to narrow my own eyes to return the scowling look in his caramel-colored eyes. “I don’t care how good your legs look in those shorts.”

  My cheeks suddenly were burning, but I didn’t blink. Two could play at this game.

  “There’s no way you and I will end up in the sack,” His dark voice swept over me, and his breath tickled my temples. “So don’t get your hopes up.”

  I felt a tingling sensation in my stomach, and it had nothing to do with hunger. He smelled good—a mixture of spice and mint.

  Distracted by his sudden closeness, it took me a few seconds to process what he’d just said.

  “I’m sorry if it hurts your ego,” I gathered myself and retorted, “but I got over my need for ‘bad boys’ years ago.” Which was the truth. I had no plans to get into a relationship any time soon, especially with a jerk like him.

  He hadn’t been counting on that. Surprise flickered in his eyes; he rubbed his face and stepped back.

  “In that case, welcome to Casa de White.” He held out his hand. “I’m Kaden.”

  For a second it didn’t register. Then I opened my eyes wide and hopped in excitement. “Does that mean I can move in?”

  Kaden winced. “You’re already breaking rule number one.”

  I stopped my bouncing and turned down the volume. “Sorry. I’m Allie.” My new name was getting easier and easier to say. Allie. Probably because that’s how I’d been introducing myself at all the apartment viewings.

  I went for it: Kaden’s hand was warm and rough. I wasn’t prepared for the bolt of lightning that the handshake triggered. It struck me right in the chest.

  And I certainly wasn’t ready for the tingling sensation that sparked when Kaden started drawing soft circles with his thumb on my back of my hand. I tore my hand from his grip and shot him an angry look. “What the hell was that?”

  “I just wanted to see if you understood rule number three.” Grinning smugly, he dug both hands into the pockets of his pants.

  The guy was hot, but not all that. His so-called rules were a joke.

  “So, when can I move in?”

  Kaden shrugged and turned toward the door. “As soon as you pay the rent and the deposit, the room’s yours.”

  I didn’t do my dance of joy until he’d left the room.

  Chapter 2

  “They. Look. So. Good!” Dawn’s round eyes opened even wider when she saw the star-shaped string of lights in our shopping cart. By now we’d reached the aisle with bedspreads and throws, but I turned up my nose at all the bright flower patterns attacking me from all sides. I brushed my hand over the colorful fabric and turned toward my new friend.

  I’d met Dawn at the intro lectures. We’d both gotten there way too early and started chatting while we waited—a stroke of luck, as far as I was concerned. There was no other explanation. Dawn was new here, like me. But she hadn’t moved to get away from her family. In her case, it was an ex-boyfriend. They’d been together six years when he cheated on her. She’d needed to get away, too. Now here we were together at Target to snag stuff for our rooms. The hour-long drive to Portland did us both some good. Besides, it was a way to get to know the area around Woodshill a bit better.

  “Take one with flowers,” she said as she disappeared into the next aisle. “Or the pink one!”

  At the end of the row I found a crocheted, cream-colored throw with fringes—a perfect match with the pale blue curtains already in my cart.

  “How do you like this one?” I called out, holding up the throw for her to see. Dawn came back around the corner, carrying a reading lamp
with a rose-colored lampshade.

  “Bingo!”

  Kaden would lose his shit if I came home with something like that. But then it wasn’t any of his business how I set up my room.

  I’d had to spend the entire past week in the hostel before Kaden could finally give me a key. Turned out the previous tenant had needed more time than he thought to pick up his bed. But today was the day: I was moving into my new room. Kaden still seemed a bit wary when he handed me the key this morning. As if he already regretted his decision. But that was his problem, not mine.

  Right after that, Dawn and I set out to shop for my first-ever furniture. I’d saved up some money in high school; I always socked away any cash I’d gotten from tutoring or as birthday gifts from relatives. My little stash would easily cover the cost of everything in my shopping cart. I also had a savings account that Mom had set up, but I only dipped into that in emergencies … or to pay for essentials—like tuition. After all, it wasn’t for nothing that she’d paid into the account for the last few years. It made me sick to think about why she’d given me the money at all. She honestly believed I could be bribed, and that money would make me forget what had happened. She had another thing coming. But even if I couldn’t be bought, I could still exact a kind of revenge by using some of Mom’s money.

  I took a deep breath and pushed the dark thoughts to the back of my mind. Back to shopping.

  “Do you need another table?” asked Dawn as we wheeled our shopping cart down the next aisle.

  “No, the guy who had the room before me left his desk and shelves there. Kaden said if I don’t like the stuff I can get rid of it myself.” I rolled my eyes. “Thank goodness he picked up the bed. It looked disgusting.”

  Dawn raised an eyebrow. “That guy sounds lovely.”

  “That’s not necessarily the first word I’d choose,” I replied.

  Oh man. Hopefully things would work out okay. I didn’t want to give up my room any time soon. The endless search for a place to stay had left me mildly traumatized.

  I’d be the perfect tenant. At least, that was my plan.

  Kaden wouldn’t find any excuse to throw me out.

  “I wish I hadn’t gotten a place in the dorm,” Dawn sighed. “Then we could have rented something together.”

  “Yeah, that’s too bad,” I agreed and pushed the cart onward. By now it was nearly full.

  “My roommate is a bitch,” Dawn continued. “I’ve only been there two weeks, and she’s already brought three different guys over. With each one she brings back, she kicks me out! I’ve thought about just not leaving, out of protest. But that’s also gross—would you want to have to watch your roommate having sex?”

  For a second I winced and shook the image of Kaden’s naked skin, glistening with sweat, from my mind. “No. I wouldn’t want that. Though with us it’s a bit different,” I added.

  Maybe my hesitation was too obvious. Dawn glanced at me searchingly, then a grin spread across her face, deepening the dimples in her cheeks.

  “Oh yeah? A bit different?” She egged me on, wiggling her eyebrows.

  I responded in kind, raising an eyebrow. “Yup. Because I don’t live in the same room with him and don’t have to get up close and personal.”

  In a flash Dawn grabbed one of the pillows from the cart and started beating me with it. I dodged the blows, laughing.

  “It’s not funny!” She dropped the pillow back into the cart and buried her face in her hands, groaning. “Really not. She doesn’t seem to have any problems finding new guys to hook up with. I mean, we’re in Woodshill! Who would’ve thought that there were so many hotties running around in a small town?”

  I had to agree with her. Right now, at the beginning of the semester, there was a cute guy our age on every street corner—one of the advantages of a university town. Hotties as far as the eye could see.

  “How about this,” I suggested, hanging my arm over Dawn’s shoulders.

  She peeked through her fingers; her hazelnut-brown eyes twinkled. “I’m listening.”

  “Just come over to my place if you have problems with your roommate. It’s probably not the optimal solution—you know the rules my roommate set,” I said, making a face, and Dawn snorted with contempt. I’d told her all about my visit, and of course I didn’t spare any details. She found Kaden’s rules just as stupid as I did. “But we can hole up in my room. At least until the storm has passed.”

  By now we’d arrived in the department for candles and picture frames. Without thinking I reached for two huge candles that wafted vanilla and coconut. Another thing we’d never had back home. My Mom thought they smelled cheap. But I found the scent heavenly and was already looking forward to the cozy haven that I would create in my room.

  “You’re too good, Allie Harper,” Dawn said. She slapped my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. “Thanks.”

  I flushed and looked away. No one had ever said anything like that to me. I’ve always been just the super-bitch. The nasty rich girl from next door. The slut. So I didn’t know how to deal with kind words.

  Dawn frowned. She seemed to sense my discomfort and changed the subject. “Wanna check out the things up there? They look nice,” she said, pointing to a high shelf with white, ornately designed picture frames. Standing on tiptoes, I managed reach the top shelf.

  “Those are cute,” I said, my mind still elsewhere. “But I don’t have any pictures to put in it.”

  It had slipped out. Even I could hear how pathetic it sounded. God, hopefully Dawn wouldn’t write me off now as a total loser. After all, it’d been my decision to leave everything behind. The pain I carried inside was heavy enough; I certainly didn’t need photos to remind me of my old life.

  “What a bunch of crap. Then we’ll make one ourselves,” Dawn said, grabbing her phone. She stood in front of me so I had to look over her shoulder, and aimed the camera at us.

  “Here? Now?” My voice was an octave higher than usual. People walked past, and I felt their eyes on us.

  “Yeah, why not?” Dawn replied unconcerned, and smiled broadly at the camera. “And now: Say sexyyy!”

  I grinned uncomfortably. My green-gray eyes looked gloomy on the phone screen.

  “Screw them!” Dawn jabbed her elbow into my ribs, as other customers stared our way. “Now, say it out loud so everyone in the store can hear it: sexyyy! Come on, Allie!”

  It seemed I had no choice. Shaking my head, I grinned and shouted: “SEXYYY!”

  And this time the smile was real.

  The picture frame was the first decoration that I placed in the room. On the way back, we’d stopped at CVS to print out the photo, and now Dawn and I were smiling down from the windowsill in my room.

  Dawn had done the same: Our Target selfie would hang in her room, too. It felt like today we’d laid the foundation for a wonderful friendship.

  Dawn made me feel like there really was such a thing. Friendship for its own sake, and not for the sake of getting something from the other person. Without pressure to always do better than the other.

  I was proud of us. We’d bought shelves and a big dresser, which fit perfectly behind the door. Since I’d forgotten to measure the room, it was pure luck. We’d already finished assembling the dresser and the second set of white shelves. Now all I needed was to assemble the sofa bed, which looked more complicated. There seemed to be some holes missing underneath, and some of the components didn’t fit in the pullout bedframe. One was longer than the other, which must’ve been a defect. I should have returned it right away, but I didn’t feel like dragging the thing down two stories and driving all the way back to Portland. On top of that, neither Dawn nor I had tools, and without a drill we’d never be able to finish it.

  Frustrated, I sank to the floor.

  “I’m probably going to have to sleep on this,” I moped, pulling the rolled-up rug to my lap and
stroking its soft, bright fake-fur as if it were a pet. Preferably a cat.

  “Stop it! We’ll figure this one out,” she growled, kind of reminding me of a Chihuahua. I had to giggle.

  Just then I heard the apartment door slam and muffled voices drifting toward us from the hallway. Oh great, the jerk was home.

  Dawn’s eyes opened wide. “Should we ask him if he has a drill?” She’d sat up so quickly that she now looked like a meerkat. I giggled again.

  “You just want to check him out.”

  “And what if I do?” she admitted and practically floated to her feet. She brushed off her shirt, which was covered with wood shavings, and reached back to check her hair, which was twisted into a messy bun. “How do I look?” she asked, giving a little spin.

  “I think we both look like we need a shower,” I replied, standing up, as well.

  We moved to the door and listened for a second. The other voice was also a man’s. So Kaden wasn’t about to get things on with some woman.

  “Do you think it’s a violation of the rules to ask him for a drill?” I whispered, as if they could have heard us.

  “Jeez! Don’t let that douche intimidate you like that,” Dawn retorted, stepping back from the door.

  I tugged at the hem of my shirt and mulled it over: Of course I didn’t want to be intimidated, but this room was important to me. I didn’t want to get on Kaden’s nerves—especially not on my first day as his roommate.

  But before I could give it another moment’s thought, Dawn opened the door and burst into the living room.

  “Dawn!” I hissed and hurried after her.

  Kaden was in the kitchen grabbing a beer from the fridge. Even from the back—or maybe particularly from the back—he was a knockout. He wore midnight-blue jeans that hugged his butt and a close-fitting dark green shirt that stretched over his shoulders and drew my gaze toward his muscular back. Next to Kaden, leaning against the kitchen counter, stood a black-haired guy. He was tall and kind of lanky. His plaid shirt was loose, its sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

 

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