Page 49 of Living on the Edge

Which would be risky.

So even though it just about kills me, I open the door, step into the hallway, and let it close behind me.

I close my eyes for a second, regret shooting through me.

Then I stride toward the elevators.

It was just sex.

Weagreedto that.

So why does it feel so shitty to walk out like this?

Chapter14

Ryleigh

My feelings were hurtfor about five minutes after Angus left.

Then anger set in and it’s been simmering in my subconscious for the last two days.

This isn’t my first one-night stand, and we agreed to no-strings sex, but it just felt…rude. We’d barely finished and then he just left. He didn’t even say goodbye. It was so weird and unexpected and insensitive. He could have hung out and talked for a few minutes. I wasn’t expecting proclamations of love or anything, but what the fuck?

I carefully avoided looking at him all day yesterday, but today I have no choice.

Today we’re doing the interview that I’ll include as part of my story.

The band made the decision that they would talk to me together and we’re meeting in Jonny’s room at one o’clock. Once we’re done, we’ll head to the arena for soundcheck.

It doesn’t help that I’m extra tired today, probably because I haven’t slept much the last two nights, but I’m feeling particularly surly as I knock on the door to Jonny’s room.

The guys look about as grumpy as I feel so we’re a somber bunch as I open my laptop to access my notes and turn on the audio recording on my phone.

“I want to start out talking about feelings,” I say, making sure I avoid Angus’s eyes at all costs. I may never be able to look into those eyes again after what we did the other night.

Bad, Ryleigh. This is not the time to think about that.

“How you felt when you found out that Angus isn’t who you thought he was. And why. Let’s start with you, Jonny.”

He drums his fingers on the table. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but for me it’s about loyalty. Either we can trust each other, or we can’t. And I don’t know how to reconcile this stranger with the guy I’ve spent the last three years treating like family.”

Ouch.

“How does that make you feel, Angus?” I ask the question but keep my eyes focused on my notes.

“Is this therapy or an interview?” he counters, his voice tinged with annoyance.

He’sannoyed?

What the fuck doeshehave to be annoyed about?

My eyes snap up and I frown. “I guess it’s whatever you want it to be, but this was your idea. If you don’t want to do the interview, I’m happy to bail.”

I don’t know where that came from—because I absolutely cannot bail on this story—but my temper overrules my good sense sometimes.

His eyes meet mine, and I’m positive everyone in the room can see the sparks fly.

“How do you think it makes me feel?” he snaps. “Ihatethat things went down this way but I did what I thought was best to protect the band.”

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