Page 36 of Living on the Edge

Stupid breast cancer gene.

In the next few years I’m going to have to make some difficult decisions, but I don’t want to think about that while I’m on tour. And I can’t afford it anyway.

Since my article is done, I’m bored so I start checking out what’s going on online.

It’s not terrible, but more and more people have seen the news and there are a lot of opinions.

Think they’ll raise the price of their album to match the cost of Holland-Burke drugs?

Does Daddy know that his heir is a rock and roll bad-boy?

I don’t really understand that one, but people are weird.

I don’t care what his name is—I’d still do Angus/August any time, any place!

There will always be groupies.

And then there are reasonable people.

Who cares what his name is? He’s a hell of a drummer. The music is the only thing that should matter!

He doesn’t even work in the pharmaceutical industry—why is this news? Poor guy probably just wants a little peace and privacy.

Okay, so now I don’t feel as bad.

Of course, I’m also worried they’re going to figure out that I’m the one who spilled the beans. As far as I know, no one saw me near the bus so the general consensus is that someoneelsesaw Angus with his brother. There was a little bit of conversation about that once we got on the bus, but it was short-lived, and no one even looked at me.

The ride seems endless, and by the time we get to the hotel, I’m anxious to stretch my legs. I’ve just gotten off when I hear a voice behind me.

“Ryleigh, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Angus’s voice is soft, deep, and well-modulated, and despite the August heat, it makes me shiver.

There’s definitely something about the timbre of his voice… it’ssodeep.

It washes over me like a caress.

And those fucking eyes.

I don’t even have to turn around to remember that they remind me of the Mediterranean Sea.

Knock. It. Off.

I can’t imagine what it would be like to be staring into them as he makes love to me, our bodies linked, one hand on my throat and?—

You need health insurance, Ryleigh.

“What’s up?” I ask politely, even though my heart starts pounding for some reason. Probably because the sound of his voice almost made me have a wet dream. Even though I’m wide awake.

“How would you like to interview me regarding the current situation as part of the story you’re doing about us?”

Well, that would be convenient, but I don’t want to look too excited.

I cock my head instead, hoping I look curious. “You want to tell your side of the story?”

“Something like that.”

His face is tight, like this is hard for him, and I’m not sure whether or not I want to make it easy on him. I could just say yes and leave it at that, but this is a story that could get me a full-time position, so I have to be strategic in how I go about it.

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