The Summer We Changed (Relentless Book 1)

by Barbara C. Doyle

He smiles at that. “I’m sure we can find you something to do. Although, you and those boys did plenty to help us with that concert.”

  I blush at the acknowledgment. “We all know how much this farm means to you. I know Will wants to keep it in the family.” Before either of us could reply, Will and Ryder come in the barn. Ryder smiles when he sees me, and Will looks like he’s seen a ghost. His eyes travel down my unusual attire. I’m wearing skinny blue jeans tucked into the borrowed boots, with an old T-shirt with the words Not Really a Morning Person scrawled across the chest. Ryder comes up to me with a grin on his face. “It’s about time you showed up. I was starting to think I’d never see you again. You still owe me cheese fries by the way. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”

  I can’t help but laugh, yet I find myself looking to see Will’s reaction, letting my laugh fade.

  What if I shouldn’t have come?

  Will stands far enough away where I’m starting to see the answer.

  Shit. I shouldn’t have come.

  I clear my throat. “Um, I thought I’d stay and help out. But I think that was a bad idea.”

  My eyes lock with Will as I say it.

  He finally snaps out of it when I start backing away, face flushed with embarrassment.

  “Tess, wait!” he calls. I tell my feet to walk faster, but they don’t comply. Hearing his voice, hearing him say my name, makes my heart completely take over.

  I hear him jog up behind me before I can escape.

  “It’s okay,” I find myself whispering, trying to convince myself that he doesn’t want me here.

  I don’t blame him. I spent the last two days locked in my apartment. I didn’t answer any texts or calls from anybody. I didn’t go online. I just sat there and thought about everything.

  The concert. Will singing. The speech he made. The feelings he confessed. Every little thing that day made my heart want to jump out of my chest and latch onto him.

  But I needed time.

  Time to tell myself that I wanted this for real. Time to tell myself that I understood why he walked away. He hurt me, and as much as I don’t want to understand why, I do. He’s scared. I am too.

  That’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend.

  Love isn’t a one and done deal. It’s a lifetime experience. An emotional roller coaster. If there isn’t one moment that you’re not contemplating their murder, you don’t love them hard enough.

  Sometimes fear can immobilize every aspect of a person—it makes you do stupid things. I know that better than anybody.

  His eyes are pleading pools of green. “Don’t go, Tess. I’m just surprised that you’re here. I didn’t mean to chase you off. Not … not again.”

  I look away from him. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. What you did the other day—”

  He pulls me in for a hug, his arms tight around my body. “Please don’t apologize. Jesus, I should be apologizing. I’m an idiot.”

  “Understatement,” I hear Ryder say from behind us.

  I can’t help but giggle at that.

  Will pulls away from me, and rolls his eyes.

  “You already said you were sorry,” I tell him, voice shy knowing we have an audience. I can feel both Ryder and his dad staring at us as we have the conversation.

  Will doesn’t seem to care.

  Of course, Will just confessed his feelings to me in front of a crowd of over three hundred people. So, I guess having his family here isn’t that big of a deal to him.

  “I needed some time,” I admit to him, biting my lip.

  “I understand.”

  I take a deep breath. “You told me to come over.”

  “I did.”

  “I …” I wrap my arms around myself. “In sixth grade, I told you that I’d come over and help you with chores if you won me a brown cat at the school fair. And you did.”

  A smirk spreads on his face.

  “And I never did what I said I would.”

  He chuckles. “No, you didn’t.”

  “But I’m here now …” I gesture toward the muck boots I’m wearing.

  “You are,” he agrees, his face lit up. “Got to say, I’m surprised. I wasn’t sure you were going to come. And I certainly didn’t expect you to dress up for me.”

  He winks. I blush.

  “Are you sure you want to do chores though?” he asks, his face scrunched like it’s the weirdest thing he’s ever heard me say. I know for a fact it isn’t. I’ve been known to say some pretty weird shit.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Listen, Old McDonald, I came here to help, so if you don’t want any then—”

  Before I can finish my thought, his lips are on mine. It’s probably a good thing he shuts me up, because I have no idea where I was even taking it.

  I don’t even think about it before I step into him. His arms go around my waist and it’s me who deepens the kiss. It doesn’t last nearly as long as I’d like.

  Somebody whistles from behind us, causing my body to heat up with embarrassment. I’m not one for PDA, but with Will, I can’t say I care.

  He leans his forehead against mine, and lets our breathing even out.

  Will’s dad comes over and slaps Will on the shoulder, giving me a wide smile. “It’s about damn time you two got together.”

  I flush.

  Ryder comes over with an evil grin on his face. “I thought for sure you’d figure out that you’re falling for the wrong brother. Guess I was wrong.”

  Will snorts and slaps Ryder’s arm. “You wish.”

  Will’s dad messes up Ryder’s styled hair. “Yeah, he most certainly does.”

  Ryder’s cheeks turn pink. “Not funny.”

  I smile at him. “You’ll find somebody someday, Ry. You’re young still.”

  “So are you,” he points out.

  I shrug. “True, but Will and I have been together practically our whole lives. Look at how long it took before either one of us were willing to give it a try.”

  Will’s dad pulls me in for a hug. “Welcome to the family, kiddo. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

  I smile into his chest.

  “Be careful,” Ryder jokes. “As soon as Mom hears this, she’ll have their wedding invitations out in the mail by morning.”

  I hiccup. “Um, we just started dating.”

  Will pulls me away from his dad, draping an arm around my shoulders. He kisses the side of my head. “Is that what you want? To be my girlfriend?”

  Doubt seeps into my veins. “Well … yeah. Isn’t that what you want?”

  He laughs. “I didn’t go out in front of all those people and serenade you with Sam Hunt with Ian as my right-hand man for nothing.”

  I hook an arm around his waist. “You worked with Ian without killing him,” I note.

  “There were a few close encounters where I debated on ending his life in some colorful ways,” he replies, but I can hear the teasing in his words.

  “You like him,” I state, smiling to myself.

  “He’s not that bad …”

  “He’s your friend.”

  “He’s our friend.”

  I shake my head, never seeing the day where Will and Ian finally start talking again.

  “I meant what I said,” he tells me quietly, as Will’s dad pulls Ryder away from us and out of the barn.

  I turn to him, so we’re facing each other. His arms are still around my waist, and mine are around him.

  “About?”

  He dips in, his mouth teasing my ear. “I love you, Tessa. You’re a head case, but you’re my head case.”

  I giggle. “So romantic.”

  He moves quickly, his lips on mine again. This time, it’s longer, sweeter, and more possessive. He bites down on my bottom lip.

  “You love it,” he states.

  “I do.” I slide my hands up his chest. “I love you, too, Will. Even if you’re more of a dog person than a cat one.”

  He pulls away, rolling his eyes. “Co
me on, we better finish up chores.”

  “What’s the hurry?” I ask, following him where he guides us to the other end of the barn.

  “The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go back to your apartment,” he whispers in my ear, nipping at my lobe.

  I bite my lip, my body heating up for an entirely different reason. He smacks my butt as I walk past him, and all I can think about is how glad I am that I’m here. He’ll always be my best friend.

  I’m just glad that I can finally call him more.

  Turning around in bed, only sheets wrapped around my body, I face a sleeping Will. I take in the presence of him, hoping to memorize him like this for as long as I can. I know under the blankets are plains of earned muscles, indents and curves of abs, and lean hips.

  His tan skin looks darker in what little light illuminates my dark apartment. It’s almost midnight, and only a night light is on in the kitchen.

  His dark lashes flutter, fanning until they reveal his bright green eyes. They’re distracting, consuming, but in the best way possible.

  “You’re staring,” he murmurs tiredly.

  I smile. “I am.”

  He sits up, holding himself up with his elbows. The sheets fall down his body, still covering his goods.

  My eyes catch something dark on his skin, on the side of his torso. Moving his arm, I run my fingers over the shape, my eyes narrowing in on it.

  I gasp when I realize what it is.

  “You got a Batman tattoo?”

  I quickly turn on the lamp, and look back over at tattoo that’s identical to the one I have on my ankle.

  He chuckles. “I got it yesterday. It was either this, or your cat’s name. I have to be honest, I didn’t want a dude’s name on my body. Plus, I thought maybe this would match the lovely makeover you gave my guitar.”

  My face heats up.

  I try avoiding that conversation. I already feel bad about gluing stickers to it, even though he said it was okay when I apologized after he saw it.

  I find my voice again. “But you hate Batman.”

  “But I love you,” he counters, shrugging. “And I love that you love Batman. I love that you love him for his strength, for his human emotions. You’re like him, you know. You’re strong.”

  My eyes slowly drift to his. “You mean that?”

  He nods.

  We sit in silence for a long moment.

  Then, he adds, “I still think Superman is better though.”

  I giggle, punching his arm. “Then I guess you should have gotten the Superman logo on your body.”

  He lays back down. “It wouldn’t have meant the same thing.”

  I stare at the tattoo one more time, then go to turn to the light off, laying back down next to him.

  He kisses my cheek. “Can I ask you something?”

  I wrap my arms around his naked chest, nuzzling myself into him so I’m as close as possible. His body heat surrounds me, easing my body into him. My muscles relax, my breathing evens, and my mind clears.

  He has that effect on me.

  He takes my silence as a yes.

  “Why not Ian?”

  I can’t help but look up at him, meeting the pools of his emerald eyes. They’re not as bright as they were before—now more somber than anything.

  “Ian’s a good friend,” I tell him quietly, my hand brushing his cheek. My thumb brushes against the side of his mouth, his warm breath caressing the pad of my finger.

  “He’s never been more for you?”

  “Not even when …” I don’t finish the thought. “I’ve never thought of him that way. Even when I didn’t admit it to myself, it’s always been you.”

  His lips tip up in the corners, a proud and territorially grin painted on his face.

  “Plus,” I add, kissing the bottom of his chin, “it would never work between Ian and me anyways.”

  His nose brushes against mine. “Why is that?”

  I giggle. “Because Ian is allergic to cats.”

  To everybody who supported me since the beginning of my writing adventure, thank you! You stuck with me through everything, supported my dream, and here we are!

  To my cat Oliver Queen Doyle, you’re still a total asshole, but I love you anyway. If it weren’t for your endless mood swings, random attacks, and even more random cuddle sessions, there wouldn’t be any inspiration to become the crazy cat lady.

  To Micalea Smeltzer, who took me under her wing when I was clueless, I adore and look up to you! You’ve helped me grow as a writer, and be part of a community that I feel I was distant from before. Your friendship truly means the world to me! If I could give you a hedgehog in appreciation, I would.

  To my editor Melissa Ringsted at There for Your Editing, you rock! You’ve been there since my very first book at sixteen, and you’re still here with me at twenty-one. Hopefully I’ve learned a thing or two in the years we’ve worked together.

  To Sofie Hartley over at Hart and Bailey Design Co., this cover is perfect for this book. I cannot stop staring at it, and I can’t wait to work with you on the other ones in the series.

  I can’t thank every single person that I want to, but know that I do appreciate all the support that you all have given me in my years of writing.

  Until Ian’s story,

  Barbara C. Doyle

  Barbara C. Doyle grew up in a small town in Upstate New York, surrounded by a passion for writing, pizza, and cats.

  Her journey started at the young age of fourteen, and grew as she pursued a degree in English and Journalism throughout college. She believes that the written word is best used as a mode to escape into a different reality, thus the birth of her novels.

  Her other passions include binge-watching Netflix, reading, and hanging out with her cat.

  Connect with her!

  Facebook Group: Barbara’s Book Nerds

  Instagram: @Barbara_C_Doyle

  Snapchat: @Barbara41096