New Beginnings

By Megan Keith

Starting over in a new city brings new challenges ...

The whirlwind romance Seth had with Emma may have been short-lived, but that doesn’t mean their break-up was any less difficult. Letting go of her is proving to be harder than Seth anticipated.

In the midst of his new job, new routine, and a new circle of friends, he meets the beautiful and feisty, Bianca. His head tells him he wants nothing more than friendship from her, but his heart soon proves to have other ideas. The problem with that is Bianca makes it abundantly clear she wants nothing more than friendship from him.

Is Seth letting his feelings take him down the painful road to heartache again? Or will it turn out to be the best move of his life?

Note: This book is the 3rd in the Finding My Way series but can be read as a stand alone novel.
Warning: Mature readers 18+ contains explicit sex scenes

• Language: English
• Publisher: Megan Keith
• Release date: Aug 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311314932

Megan Keith

I am an indie author, mother of three, wife of one. I live in a small town in country New South Wales, Australia and couldn't be happier about that.I love writing and hanging out with the family and I love listening to music LOUD!!!Reading is my addiction and I love books that are full of angst, heartbreak and breathtaking romance, tragedy, everyday issues and not-so-everyday fantasies. I love swoon-worthy bad boys and hot and steamy sex scenes, edge-of-your-seat drama, twists, turns and surprises. And most importantly, happily-ever-afters!

Book preview

Finding My Way, book three

CONTENT WARNING:

For Mature 18+ readers, contains explicit sex scenes

PLEASE NOTE:

This book is the third instalment in the Finding My Way series. It is recommend that you read the series in order, however New Beginnings can be read as a standalone without you missing too much.

Copyright © Megan Keith 2015

All Rights Reserved

Edited by Renee Kubisch

Published by Megan Keith Publishing

Cover Design by Cover to Cover Designs

Cover photo by MHPhotography

Cover models – Mandy Hollis & Austin Sharpless

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people or real places are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All song titles and lyrics quoted herein remain the property of the respective copyright holders.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the author, unless in quote form.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

(Can be found on Spotify)

Our Swords – Band of Horses

It’s Time – Imagine Dragons

Girls Like You – The Naked and Famous

Toxic – Britney Spears

Tongue Tied – Grouplove

Call Me Maybe – Carly Rae Jepsen

Young At Heart – Amy Meredith

I Spy – Mikhael Paskalev

Alien Like You – The Pigott Brothers

I Want You To Want Me – Letters to Cleo

Easy To Love – The Jezabels

Esmerelda – Ben Howard

Brick – Ben Folds Five

Love Lost – The Temper Trap

Blood – The Middle East

Riptide – Vance Joy

From Finner – Of Monsters and Men

Home – Phillip Phillips

Fall At Your Feet – Boy & Bear

Sex On Fire – Kings Of Leon

White Blank Page – Mumford & Sons

Warning Sign – Coldplay

Give Me Love – Ed Sheeran

Coffee & TV - Blur

New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings

Lao Tzu

PROLOGUE - Seth

Instead of working I’m playing around on Facebook, again. Why do I torture myself? It’s been three months since I moved to Sydney, three months since Emma and I broke up, and for three months I’ve been stalking her on the internet. I really should unfriend her but I just can’t seem to click that button. I go to her profile and find her page updated, yet again, with pictures from around the world. This time it’s a picture of her and Nick on a "gondola in Venice …" having the "… time of our lives," the smiles on their faces proving that point.

Just when I think I’m nearing the end of this dark tunnel, I have to bring myself back to the bitter truth that she will never be mine. I still love Emma, and I guess a part of me always will. It hurts knowing I couldn’t be the one for her, when I really thought she was the one for me. We had so much in common; in theory we were perfect for each other. But her heart wasn’t in it.

It’s clear by her Facebook page that she has more than moved on, she’s found exactly what she needed. She’s happy and I’m glad she is.

Everyone deserves to be happy.

Even girls who break your heart.

I don’t mean to be all doom and gloom because life is looking up for me now. I love my new job and my tiny apartment isn’t too bad. I’m settling into this city and this new life.

Well … everything was looking up.

Until I met HER.

Two weeks ago I met HER and she made me question everything.

I know I don’t want to start another relationship. The pain is still too raw from the last one.

I fell hard for Emma. Hard and fast. We weren’t even together that long, yet I can’t help but think she stole a piece of my heart. How am I supposed to get it back? How am I supposed to mend and move on?

I don’t want to start something with another girl only to get my heart stomped on again.

How can I be aching over one girl and yet fighting against urges for another?

I met her two weeks ago and life hasn’t been the same since.

1. Seth - Two weeks earlier

How can you drink that shit? my boss, Jim, asks when he enters the break room, sandwich in hand. He motions to the takeaway coffee cup in front of me. Now if you want a real coffee, I know a place… he says in some sort of weird accent. I guess he’s trying to quote a movie or something. Jim sometimes likes to think he’s a comedian.

Yeah? I ask, only half-interested.

I could hook you up, for the right price. Again with the accent? I don’t get it, maybe he’s meant to be a mobster or something. He wiggles his bushy eyebrows at me. I guess he wants me to laugh, but I’m not really in the mood, so I plaster a fake smile on my face instead. He leans over the table and whispers as he taps the side of his nose. "You just say the word. Best. Coffee. Ever."

I quickly drain the rest of my coffee and stand, crushing the disposable cup before chucking it in the bin. The coffee from the café on the ground floor of our building is okay, it’s convenient, but Jim’s right, there’s probably better coffee out there.

Okay Jim, you got me, I say with a chuckle I don’t really feel. Where is it?

After spending all morning looking at the computer screen in a daze, I could do with a decent coffee, plus I still have twenty minutes left of my lunchbreak. I don’t particularly want to spend the last part of my hour off watching my fifty year old, balding, boss try to be entertaining.

Jim grabs a napkin from the table and the pen from his shirt pocket to draw me a map. I don’t find his routine funny as he places his arm protectively over the napkin and pretends to look over his shoulder. I laugh anyway, because it is quite pathetic really. At least he thinks he’s impressed me. For some reason Jim is always trying way too hard to impress everybody. It’s a shame; he’s a nice guy when he stops trying.

He folds the napkin in half and hands it to me, glancing around like what he’s handing me is a top secret mission report, or something equally stupid.

You can thank me later. He winks.

Sure. I grab the napkin from him and head out to the corridor. I don’t get very far before I hear Lisa behind me, calling out my name. I turn to face her. The leggy blonde is the spitting image of a Barbie doll. No joke. The hair, the face, the figure, she really is like a living, human-sized doll.

Hey Lisa.

Are you going to lunch? she asks, then she smiles her flirtiest smile at me, all big lips and too white teeth. Something Barbie doesn’t have, I guess.

Yep.

Oh pooey. Who says that? I just got back from my lunchbreak, we could have gone together. She pouts, and it looks ridiculous, she must have collagen implants or Botox in her lips or something, because they stick out in an unnatural way. It’s distracting. I find my eyes drawn to them when she speaks, and not in the I-want-to-kiss-those kind of way but more like the can’t-stop-staring-at-those-freaky-things kind. And the bright red lipstick she wears doesn’t help one bit.

Another time, I say, relief flooding me as I turn away from her. I let out a thankful sigh when I hear her heels clicking away on the tiled floor in the opposite direction to where I’m headed. Lisa’s been flirting with me since she started here about three weeks ago. She could be a supermodel with her looks (bar the lips) but she does nothing for me, well, other than annoy me that is.

As I stand in the elevator I look at Jim’s map. The place he’s sending me to is called Sweets, Coffees & Cakes. That’s original, I wonder what they sell? I look at the lines he’s drawn and find that it probably wasn’t necessary to even draw the map when the place looks to be just around the corner.

I exit the glass sliding doors of the building and walk to my left. According to the map I have to go down a laneway fifty steps from here.

Fifty steps … really?

I try not to, but I find myself counting as I walk, it’s only in my head so it’s not like anyone knows, but it still makes me feel like a moron. When I get to forty-nine I stop in front of a narrow driveway. I’m supposed to turn left here but it looks dead. In a city that’s so busy, it surprises me to see nobody down there. As I walk I can hear the echo of my footsteps bouncing off the concrete walls either side of me.

I look back at my napkin map and see that I’m to follow the lane to the end, then turn left again. When I do, I’m faced with another quiet laneway, this one narrower and quieter, and perhaps even a little eerie. But when I look up I can see that it’s shorter and at the end I can see a flurry of people walking by. My map says to take thirty-three steps and the café should be on my right. By the time I take those steps I’m almost at the end of the lane and back in the hustle of a busy city street. Sure enough the coffee shop is on my right, one shop down from the corner. And as suspected, I didn’t really need Jim’s stupid map as I probably just about came full circle to the backside of our building. The place isn’t as hidden as he made out either. If I had stayed on the main streets instead, I could have easily spotted it.

I huff then push the glass door open. I’m immediately hit with the welcomed aroma of strong coffee. The café is busy, but not as busy as the one I normally go to. I can hear the sound of soft jazz playing low enough not to be overbearing, but still loud enough it can distinctly be heard over the clatter of plates and cutlery and the mumble of the small crowd. The dark purple walls are splashed with splatters of bright colours; it’s oddly warm and inviting. A large display case of delicious looking cakes and pastries sits to the right of the door. It joins up with a counter where an oversized, funky red, retro cash register is placed. Joining that is another counter that houses more cakes, sweet treats and sandwich fillings, and continues down to the back wall that holds a swinging door to where I presume the kitchen is. I had planned on getting a coffee to go, but now that I’m actually here I don’t feel like hurrying back to the office at all.

When the older gentleman at the counter moves away, I take his place in front of the register. I’m served by a girl with bright pink hair and a warm and friendly smile. I’m surprised by the generous size, and bright colour, of the lime green mug I’m handed. Taking a seat at one of the empty little round tables that are scattered about the room, I look around at the other customers and notice that everybody has mugs and plates of all different sizes and colours. But that’s not the only thing that’s odd, the chairs and lights are all mismatched and the jazz music that was playing suddenly gives way to a heavy metal song. The place is like a contradiction of itself, but it works. Most importantly when I take my first sip I’m in coffee heaven. Jim was right. Best. Coffee. Ever. I’ll definitely be coming back here.

The coffee goes down so well that before I know it, my mug is empty. I take it up to the front counter. Placing it down, I gently slide it across to the girl standing next to the coffee machine.

Thank you, she says in a honey-toned voice.

"No, thank you, that was delicious," I reply, probably a little more enthusiastically than required, but the coffee was just that good.

The girl behind the counter pauses at my words and then I look at her, I mean I really look at her. She has light, golden brown hair that’s pulled back into a messy bun with stray loose strands. She looks up at me with a breathtaking smile that reaches her beautiful blue eyes and I find it hard to look away. There’s something warm and inviting about her face, her smile, and the light sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks and nose …

She blinks her long dark lashes at me and I’m forced to blink mine back into focus. My heart rate increases to a rate I haven’t felt in months, adrenalin pumping through me at a speed like I’ve been riding my bike.

Enjoy the rest of your day. Her smile falters and becomes more of a slightly lopsided grin, only showing the tiniest hint of teeth. She has an almost shy look about her and I find it even harder to look elsewhere.

You too, I say, walking backwards from the counter so that I can stare at her a little while longer. She looks away first and it hits me - I can’t wait to come back.

And so begins my relationship with Sweets, Coffees & Cakes, I think with a smile.

***

My phone rings no sooner than I’ve shut the door to my apartment. I pull it from my jacket pocket, lifting my phone to see it’s my dad calling.

Hello Dad, I answer, tugging my tie free as I do.

Hi. How are you, Seth? I haven’t caught you at a bad time, have I?

No, not at all. Just got in the door.

What? From work?

Uh-huh. I throw myself down on the couch, kicking off my shoes and crossing my feet on the low coffee table in front of me.

You’re working too hard. It’s after nine.

I am aware of that, I say with more bite than necessary.

What’s up your arse? Rough day?

Nah, sorry Dad, I yawn, I’m just tired.

You’re tired every time I speak to you. Are you looking after yourself? Eating right and-

Stop. I chuckle. You’re as bad as Mum.

We worry, it’s our job. He lowers his voice, And no, I’m not as bad as her. I can just picture the look on his face as he probably rolls his eyes.

She made you call, didn’t she? I laugh.

No, he replies unconvincingly.

"Dad…"

Okay, yes, but don’t tell her I said that.

"Well, you can tell her to stop worrying. I’m fine. I ate dinner and it was healthy … ish." My burger did have salad on it … lettuce and tomato anyway.

Alright. So how’s work?

Really good, busy, but good. It’s challenging.

You don’t sound too convincing.

Honestly Dad, I’m loving my job. It’s just … kinda lonely here is all.

Oh. Right, Dad says awkwardly. Yeah, this is not the conversation I really want to have with him. Dad and I are close but we don’t really talk ‘feelings’ often, that’s a Mum thing. Well, you’ll figure it out.

Absolutely, I say with a resigned sigh, wondering how true it is.

I’ve been feeling homesick lately, but only when I’m not working. I really do enjoy the work. The job is what I’ve always wanted. Though I’m finding that I enjoy being in the office more than I do my apartment. Because at work I feel like I’m achieving something, but being here, in this confined space with nothing to do and no one for company is depressing. My small apartment consists of only three rooms - a bedroom, a small lounge/kitchen area and a tiny bathroom. It’s clean and modern, fully furnished, but I’ve seen budget motel rooms with more space. It gets claustrophobic sometimes. But hey, it’s only temporary and, as it’s one of the perks of my salary package I don’t pay rent, so there’s that.

Still, the ‘new city, new beginning’ idea has worn off completely.

When I finish the semi-awkward conversation with Dad I think back to the day Emma dumped me. I was devastated to hear she didn’t love me back. I’d grabbed my things, left her apartment, jumped in my car and I never returned. The next day I quit my job. After driving aimlessly for a while I found myself pulling into my parents’ driveway. Mum was immediately concerned when I walked in the door that late Monday afternoon. Dad had just arrived home from work and they were both seated in the kitchen…

"Seth, what are you doing here? It’s a bit early for you to be off work, isn’t it? Has something happened?" Mum fired all the questions at me with a panicked edge to her voice.

I’d put on a brave face, pushed the hurt from Emma aside and focused on the good part of my news - my new job. I smiled. Despite everything I was excited about this new job opportunity.

"I have some news." My smile grew wider.

"Oh?" Dad said, before exchanging a curious look with Mum.

"I’ve got a new job."

"Phew! Mum said, hand on her chest. Don’t do that to me!"

"Do what?"

"You worried me there for a moment."

"What? Why do you look so relieved?"

"I thought that … never mind." She shook her head.

"Dad?" I turned to him with an expectant look, causing him to sigh loudly.

"Your mother had this crazy notion you were going to ask Emma to marry you," Dad explained.

I laughed sardonically. You couldn’t be more wrong, I said bitterly. Mum’s concern was back on her face. We broke up instead.

"Really? Oh, Seth, I’m sorry. She pulled me in for a quick hug. Why?"

"She didn’t want the same things I did," I replied with a shrug, trying to hide the fact I felt like I was about to fall apart.

"I’m sorry, honey. She gave me a rub on the back. I’m sure it’s for the best though."

I quickly changed the topic back to my new job but that part of the conversation, from that day, has always stuck with me. Mum had known Emma wasn’t the girl for me and that was hard to hear back then. However now I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if we had continued our relationship long distance. Or even worse, if she had moved up here with me. Emma did the right thing, breaking up with me, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. They say love is blind and I can see just how true that is now. I fell for her and was blind to the fact that she didn’t feel the same way.

I grab myself a beer from the fridge and head to the bathroom for a quick shower, anything to distract myself from this stupid and pointless pity party.

2. Bianca

Ugh, he’s looking at me again. Why? Can’t he take a hint? He is so not my type … anymore. Been there done that, I refuse to get caught up with another guy like him. Just drink your damn coffee and leave already! He’s been in the café every day this week, complimenting me on my hair, my clothes, the way I make the coffee, idle chit-chat about the frigging weather. I know he’s trying to work his way up to asking for my phone number or a date. And every time I’ve given him a polite response with a tight smile, hoping to let him know I’m not interested. Get a clue fella!

I glance his way again and he’s still looking. He beams a sweet smile at me. Oh, why did I do that? He doesn’t need encouraging! He is so not what I need right now. Or ever again! No more nice guys. And this guy seems like a nice guy, a really nice guy, gentle and kind, polite - with his fancy suits, perfectly styled hair and indirect approach. No, I need a man who’s assertive, who knows what he wants and goes for it. Someone who, if they wanted to ask me out they would just bloody do it already! I want a guy who isn’t a pushover and so damn agreeable, or a lazy no-hoper like my ex. I do not want to wear the pants in another relationship. This guy, is definitely not what I’m after.

Could I get one of those to go, please?

Sorry? I look up apologetically at the person who spoke. Oh shit, it’s him! And I have no idea what he just asked for.

A hedgehog slice thanks. He points to the slice in the cabinet under the counter.

My eyes involuntarily flick to his. He smiles and it lights up his whole damn face. Some of his ‘styled to perfection’ dark brown hair comes loose and flops into his eyes, just begging to be swept away by my fingers. My fingers? Grrr! No! His deep brown eyes and perfect teeth add to his appeal, making it hard to look in any other direction. I blink at him to regain focus. Right. Hedgehog slice. I bend down to get his snack, pop it onto a plate and place it on the counter.

My eyes again meet his and he lets out a small throaty chuckle as he asks, You giving away plates now? His tone is mocking yet sexy. Sexy? Fuck no! I don’t want to think that about this guy.

I stare at him in confusion and he leans forward. My hand still rests against the china plate on the