The Way We Are Read online

  The Way We Are

  Shandi Boyes

  Edited by

  Mountains Wanted Publishing

  Illustrated by

  SSB Designs

  Copyright

  ©Shandi Boyes 2019

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  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  * * *

  Cover Design: SSB Designs

  Photo: DepositPhoto - Edits made to photo.

  Edited by: Mountains Wanted Publishing

  Contents

  Want to stay in touch?

  Also by Shandi Boyes

  I. The Way We Are

  Prologue

  1. Ryan

  2. Ryan

  3. Ryan

  4. Ryan

  5. Ryan

  6. Ryan

  7. Ryan

  8. Ryan

  9. Ryan

  10. Ryan

  11. Ryan

  12. Ryan

  13. Ryan

  14. Ryan

  15. Ryan

  16. Ryan

  17. Ryan

  18. Ryan

  19. Ryan

  20. Ryan

  21. Ryan

  22. Ryan

  23. Ryan

  24. Ryan

  25. Ryan

  26. Ryan

  27. Ryan

  28. Ryan

  29. Ryan

  30. Ryan

  31. Ryan

  32. Ryan

  33. Ryan

  34. Ryan

  35. Ryan

  36. Ryan

  37. Ryan

  38. Ryan

  39. Ryan

  40. Ryan

  41. Ryan

  42. Ryan

  43. Ryan

  Also by Shandi Boyes

  Want to stay in touch?

  Facebook: facebook.com/authorshandi

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  Instagram: instagram.com/authorshandi

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  Email: [email protected]

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  Reader’s Group: bit.ly/ShandiBookBabes

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  Website: authorshandi.com

  * * *

  Newsletter: https://www.subscribepage.com/AuthorShandi

  Also by Shandi Boyes

  Perception Series

  * * *

  Saving Noah (Noah & Emily)

  Fighting Jacob (Jacob & Lola)

  Taming Nick (Nick & Jenni)

  Redeeming Slater (Slater and Kylie)

  Saving Emily (Noah & Emily - Novella)

  Wrapped Up with Rise Up (Perception Novella - should be read after the Bound Series)

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  Enigma

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  Enigma (Isaac & Isabelle #1)

  Unraveling an Enigma (Isaac & Isabelle #2)

  Enigma The Mystery Unmasked (Isaac & Isabelle #3)

  Enigma: The Final Chapter (Isaac & Isabelle #4)

  Beneath The Secrets (Hugo & Ava #1)

  Beneath The Sheets(Hugo & Ava #2)

  Spy Thy Neighbor (Hunter & Paige)

  The Opposite Effect (Brax & Clara)

  I Married a Mob Boss(Rico & Blaire)

  Second Shot(Hawke & Gemma)

  The Way We Are(Ryan & Savannah #1)

  The Way We Were(Ryan & Savannah #2)

  Sugar and Spice (Cormack & Harlow)

  Lady In Waiting (Regan & Alex #1)

  Man in Queue (Regan & Alex #2)

  Couple on Hold(Regan & Alex #3)

  Enigma: The Wedding (Isaac and Isabelle)

  Silent Vigilante (Brandon and Melody #1)

  Hushed Guardian (Brandon & Melody #2)

  Quiet Protector (Brandon & Melody #3)

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  Bound Series

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  Chains (Marcus & Cleo #1)

  Links(Marcus & Cleo #2)

  Bound(Marcus & Cleo #3)

  Restrain(Marcus & Cleo #4)

  Psycho (Dexter & ??)

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  Russian Mob Chronicles

  * * *

  Nikolai: A Mafia Prince Romance (Nikolai & Justine #1)

  Nikolai: Taking Back What’s Mine (Nikolai & Justine #2)

  Nikolai: What’s Left of Me(Nikolai & Justine #3)

  Nikolai: Mine to Protect(Nikolai & Justine #4)

  Asher: My Russian Revenge (Asher & Zariah)

  Nikolai: Through the Devil's Eyes(Nikolai & Justine #5)

  Trey (Trey & K)

  K: A Trey Sequel

  The Italian Cartel

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  Dimitri

  Roxanne

  Reign

  Mafia Ties (Novella)

  Maddox

  Demi

  Rocco

  Clover

  Smith

  * * *

  RomCom Standalones

  Just Playin’ (Elvis & Willow)

  Ain't Happenin' (Lorenzo & Skylar)

  The Drop Zone (Colby & Jamie)

  Very Unlikely (Brand New Couple)

  * * *

  Short Stories

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  Christmas Trio (Wesley, Andrew & Mallory -- short story)

  Falling For A Stranger (Short Story)

  * * *

  Coming Soon

  Skitzo

  Prologue

  Dear Reader,

  Just like Hugo’s book, I couldn’t represent the man Ryan is today without showing the man he used to be. To do that, we need to go back in time. Ryan’s story steps even further into the past than Hugo’s did. We’re going back over ten years, back to his teen days.

  We learn who he is, and how he became the man he is.

  It's a fun, emotion-packed ride.

  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

  Cheers

  Shandi xx

  1

  Ryan

  “Ryan!” booms into my ears, distracting me from the wildly wicked visual of Savannah Fontane, the prettiest and most entrancing girl at Lady Musket College, doing a double-triple-quadruple whatchamacallit flip on the rolled turf of her all-girls $100,000 a year school field.

  No, I don’t attend an exclusive all-girls school. I also don’t have a nickel to my name, much less 100Gs to waste on schooling that's as worthless to me as tits on a bull. I’m just one of those regular high school weirdos who lurks in the shadows of highly sought-after Catholic schools hoping to get my rocks off. Have you seen how flexible cheerleaders are? Damn. If I had a nickel, I could bounce it off my dick just from the way Savannah has her knee curled around her head. Complete and unfettered access.

  I’m joking—calm down!

  I have a nickel. I’m just not gonna whip out my dick to prove my theory. I don’t want to get arrested...again. I only escaped a hefty probation after my last tussle with the law because my dad is a police officer. Has been since the day I could walk. Does that make him an upstanding member of society? Doubtful. He's as crooked as my buddy Chris’s bottom teeth.

  “You gathering intel? Or memories for your spank bank?” Chris slaps my back three times before cranking open the rusty door of my badly-in-need-of-an-update truck to slip inside.

  “A bit of both,” I reply with a cunning smirk. The spank bank material is of Savannah. The intel... that’s to take down the group of douchebags watching her dance routine with even more salaciously than I was.

  Chris smiles before yanking his seatbelt into place. “Thanks for waiting for me. You k
now what Ms. Forrester is like.” After fastening the latch, he raises his hands in the air to smack his fingers against his thumbs, mimicking two ducks going to war.

  Grinning at his accurate assessment of the head of our department, I run around my truck and slide into the driver’s seat. See, I’m not a total weirdo. I only crossed paths with Savannah today because my school parking lot backs onto the field her cheerleading practices are held on. Although I could have parked out the front to wait for Chris, I’m not a complete idiot. Two dozen scantily clad girls in tiny skirts and midriff tops bouncing around for an hour nonstop...

  Okay, maybe I am a perv.

  “You know you wouldn’t have to sit through Ms. Forrester’s infamous lectures if you stopped harassing the student teachers. ‘You are here to learn, not chase skirts,'" I quote, giving him the same lecture Ms. Forrester did when she caught him cornering a recently drafted student teacher in the art supplies room.

  I can’t say I blame him. Hannah Monty is still technically in college, and the gleam in her eyes when she noticed Chris’s attention strengthens that admission. She was totally onboard with every suggestion he insinuated, even the part about them getting frisky in the supply closet. You can take a girl out of college, but you can't take college out of the girl.

  Ms. Hannah’s eagerness has me reconsidering my decision not to attend college. A few years away from this shithole could be the best thing to ever happen to me. It can’t get any worse.

  Don’t get me wrong, Ravenshoe is my hometown—always has been, always will be—but there are only so many times I can look at the same scenery and still see its beauty. Over time, everything looks ratted and used. Except Savannah. She’s like a fine wine. Keeps getting better with age.

  I’ve known Savannah since I was four. Before her father’s investment capital skyrocketed his wealth to a level I can only dream of, she attended the same run-of-the-mill public school Chris and I are still attending. Although Savannah goes to a private school now, she looks like the same girl she’s always been. Big doe eyes, long wavy honey-colored hair, and a smile that warns she's not only sweet, she is also smart.

  I've had a crush on Savannah for years. At one point, my crush was reciprocated. Seven minutes in heaven awarded me seven years in hell. Two years after our first kiss, Savannah’s life drastically changed. I’d like to say for the better, but since I’ve spotted her douchebag boyfriend’s car parked a few spaces down from mine, I’ll keep my opinions to myself.

  Axel Monroe is the quarterback at an exclusive all-boys school in Hopeton, three-time state champion, and owner of a sleek new Chrysler Sebring convertible. He thinks his bright red sports car makes him masculine and tough. It doesn’t. Every football player in a two-hundred-mile radius knows he’s compensating for his less-than-stellar assets. The locker rooms get cold in winter, but not cold enough your dick looks like a half-chewed walnut.

  I honestly don’t know what Savannah sees in him. She doesn’t need his money or popularity—she has both of them in abundance—but no matter how low Axel’s antics scrape the barrel, Savannah stands at his side, supporting him. I sound like I’m jealous, like I’m peeved a dickwank with a bag of nuts for a crotch stole the girl of my dreams out from under me, but that isn’t the case.

  Axel isn’t the right man for Savannah. She needs a man who will complement her strengths and offset her weaknesses. Someone who will stand by her side, supporting her, as well as she does in return. She doesn’t want to be placed on a pedestal and treated like a princess; she wants to be treated like an equal.

  Axel can't do that. His head is too far up his own ass to put anyone but himself first. I know it. Every student from here to New York knows it. Savannah is the only one who has failed to get the memo. If we were close like we were back in primary school, I wouldn’t hesitate to call Axel out as the douchebag he is. But since I'm the perverted weirdo who loiters in the dusty parking lot at the back of his school, waiting for my mates to finish detention just so I have an excuse to watch her cheerleading practice, I’ll keep my mouth shut.

  It isn't my place to interfere in her life. It is the man she's greeting right now with a kiss on the cheek. The one throwing her over his shoulder and swatting her bottom while his friends wolf whistle and catcall like morons. He’s the one who should tell her she deserves better. Not me. Not the boy she shared her first kiss with. Or the one she promised to marry when she was six.

  I’m just a fragment of her past. He’s her future.

  Pretending I can’t feel annoyance bubbling in my veins, I stab my car key into the ignition and twist. “Come on, you piece of shit,” I grumble under my breath when three turns fail to fire up my motor.

  Chris swings his dark brown eyes to me. “I thought you and your dad were going to work on your motor last weekend?”

  I huff. “Yeah, well, you know as good as anyone the shit dads promise when they’re drunk.”

  Not a word seeps from Chris’s lips. Not one.

  Unfortunately, I'm not the only one sitting in this rust bucket with an alcoholic father. Chris's dad was set for fame. His band made a pretty penny back in the nineties, six months after Chris’s dad left the group to marry his knocked up on-again-off-again fling. That was the start of Trevor's downward spiral.

  When you drink an entire bottle of scotch in a night, and you wake up without the slightest hangover the next day, you know you have issues. Both Trevor and my dad have issues. It's just my dad who is in denial.

  “Pop open the hood; you probably flooded the engine.” Chris slips out of the passenger seat fast, but not fast enough for me to miss him grumbling, “Probably all that drooling you were doing over Savannah.”

  Acting like I didn’t hear his sneered comment, I join him under the hood. “Flooded?”

  Throw me a stack of wood and a pile of nails, and I'll create you a masterpiece. Stick anything mechanical in front of me, and you’re just asking for a disaster.

  “Nah. It appears to be your battery. The terminals are corroded. If we can get some charge to it, it will get us home, but you’re gonna need a new battery. This one is too old to hold charge.”

  Wiping the grease from his hands onto his jeans, his eyes swing to the right. Following the direction of his gaze, my jaw ticks.

  “Fuck no. Nope. No chance in hell. Ain’t happening.”

  I back away from him with my hands held up in the air like I did when we got arrested for underage drinking last month. I’d rather face the wrath of my drunken father who picked me up from the station at 2 AM than ask douchebag Axel for help.

  “I’ll call Brax.”

  “Can’t,” Chris replies, glaring into my icy blue gaze. “His child labor job started today.”

  I arch a brow, clueless.

  “The tattoo shop he tagged last week. Grace negotiated with the owner for him to work there until he pays back his debt.”

  I smirk, mentally rubbing salt into Brax’s wounds for not listening to my warning. “I told him not to tag Ryder’s territory. That was just asking for trouble.”

  Chris nods, agreeing with me before returning his eyes to Savannah and Axel walking to his convertible. Chris’s suggestion of asking Axel for help still pisses me off, but not as severely as it did earlier. My anger is kept at bay from the sneaky glance Savannah gives me while Axel says goodbye to his friends with a two-finger salute. Although her green eyes are barely visible under her waves of golden locks, they’re not hidden enough for me to miss the direction of their gaze. I want to pretend she is looking at me with adoration, but I know that isn’t the case. She is probably trying to figure out why I’m still here. Usually, nothing but a dust cloud is left in my wake once her cheerleading practice is over.

  Okay, now I really sound like a dirty old perv.

  When Axel curls his hand around Savannah’s, my eyes drift back to Chris. “If I ask him for help, I’ll never live it down.”

  “Don’t ask him. Ask her,” Chris proposes, nudging his head to Savanna
h, who is once again glancing my way. “She will help you. She’ll do anything for her little Ry-Ry.”

  Pretending Savannah’s sneaky glances haven’t made my heart skip a beat, I throw my fist into Chris’s stomach, winding him.

  “Shut the fuck up with the Ry-Ry shit,” I growl under my breath.

  There is only one person allowed to call me Ry-Ry. It sure as hell isn’t Chris. Furthermore, Savannah hasn’t called me a nickname in years. Actually, come to think of it, she hasn’t called me anything, much less something as personal as a term of endearment. We haven’t spoken since the seventh grade, so I doubt she remembers the nickname she gave me when she was six.

  “Everything okay?”