Page 68 of Living on the Edge

“Thanks for understanding.”

He gives me a mock salute, and then he’s gone.

I finish getting ready and grab my e-reader before heading back to Ryleigh’s room.

“Hey.” She looks surprised to see me. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean?” I brush past her. “You’re stuck with me for the next two days.”

“Don’t you have your own room?”

“I do, but since you’ve proven that you don’t like to ask for help, I don’t trust you on your own.”

I’m relieved to see her bristle with indignation.

If she’s getting mad, she’s feeling better.

“I’m not a child,” she snaps. “I wassick. I already feel better, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“But I am. And I will until you’re back to a hundred percent.” I sink down into a chair. “Looks like you had breakfast… do you need anything else?”

“No.” She’s frowning, hands on her hips.

“What?” I ask. “You want to argue with me about sitting here and reading my book in your room versus mine? Go for it.”

She seems to consider that and then merely shrugs. “Fine.”

She gets back into bed and looks over at me. “What are you reading?”

“Ayn Rand’sThe Fountainhead. You ever heard of it? I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”

She arches her brows. “Personally, I likedAtlas Shruggedbetter,” she replies, referring to another of Rand’s books. “It’s a more comprehensive view of her philosophy and I found her staunch individualism fascinating.”

“I haven’t read that one yet. I’m about seventy-five percent of the way throughThe Fountainhead. That one is next.”

“It’s long. I think some people would find it boring, but I got lost in it.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty hardcore with her individualism versus collectivism. Collectivism being any kind of laws for the common good.”

“Right.” She nods. “Did you know she loosely modeled the main character inThe Fountainheadafter Frank Lloyd Wright?”

“I did read that somewhere. Mostly to do with the architecture but yeah, it’s been interesting.”

“I think she goes overboard, but it’s still fascinating. I mean, it makes sense, based on her Russian upbringing during the Tsarist Regime…”

We talk about Ayn Rand and her books for the next hour.

I’ve never had a more interesting or lively conversation with anyone, much less a sexy redhead who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed as we chat. She’s definitely feeling better, although I can see her starting to drag after a while.

“You look tired,” I say when the discussion seems to be waning. “Why don’t you take a little cat nap, and I’ll go get us some lunch? What do you feel like?”

She hesitates. “I would kill for a tuna melt.”

“I don’t think we need to do anything that drastic over a sandwich. Close your eyes for a bit while I go hunt one down.”

“Is tuna hunting legal in St. Louis?” She smirks, and I laugh.

“Jury’s out, but I’ll find a way.”

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