Page 60 of Living on the Edge

Being sulky and brooding about the shit I got myself into isn’t going to change or help anything.

I guzzle the rest of my beer and grab another, following Tate as he joins the conversation with the DJ. She’s middle-aged but still very attractive, and Tate is actually hitting on her. He likes older women, which doesn’t make any difference to me, but it’s always entertaining when he picks out a woman old enough to be his mother.

Unfortunately for Tate, it turns out the DJ is married, and not interested in that kind of attention, but we wind up taking a bunch of pictures and she invites us to be on the show next time we’re in St. Louis.

Then Nobody’s Fool gets on stage and tonight Kirsten is joining them for a couple of songs, so we stick around to support her.

Jonny still isn’t talking to me directly, but Tate was right that there’s some normalcy in just pretending that everything is okay. We’re hanging out as a group, along with all the significant others from Nobody’s Fool, and it’s a good time.

For the first time in over a week, some of the heaviness lifts from my soul and I almost feel like myself again.

And ironically, I find myself thinking about Ryleigh again.

She should be here tonight.

For her to not show up for the show, she must be really sick.

A familiar wave of guilt washes over me, reminding me how badly I treated her after we had sex.

I don’t know what the hell happened to me that night.

I was a complete ass.

I’ve had plenty of one-night stands and I’ve never been that abrupt or flat-out dismissive. I enjoy sex and the women who are willing to give me that pleasure, and despite the boundaries we agreed upon, she deserved better.

I have to apologize.

It seems like that’s all I’m doing these days.

I still need to fix things with my grandfather too.

“You’re thinking again,” Tate says to me when Nobody’s Fool is done for the night.

“Sorry.” I give him a wry smile. “I’m thinking about all the people I have to apologize to.”

“Beyond Jonny?” He frowns.

“Yeah. My grandfather and I had an argument right as the story broke about my identity, and I said something stupid.” I rub my hand over my head. “And there’s someone else…” I let my voice trail because I don’t want to tell anyone that Ryleigh and I slept together. She has a professional reputation to hold on to, and I’ve already fucked up enough shit for people—I don’t want her reputation to be another casualty of my fuckery.

“A woman?” he asks knowingly.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say quickly. “I just have a lot of making up to do. It’s messing with my head.”

“You have a lot on your plate,” he acknowledges. “But it looks like we’re taking the party to the hotel bar—and you are not going up to your room to brood.”

I laugh. “Promise.”

I do plan to go check on Ryleigh, though.

“I want to change my clothes,” I say. “I’m wet from the show.”

He nods. “Yeah, I want to put on shorts. It’s hot as balls here tonight.”

We head back to the hotel, everyone making plans to meet at the bar. Most of us want to change or shower, so we disperse at the elevators. Tate and I are on the same floor, so we get off together.

“Ten minutes,” he says. “Don’t give me any bullshit about Ayn Rand or—” He cuts himself off as he stares at something down the hall. “Is that…Ryleigh?”

I follow his gaze and see a familiar figure sagging against the wall, hugging an ice bucket to her chest.

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