Page 9 of Living on the Edge

We’re in Chicago tonight, and apparently the guys know a super-secret speakeasy where a private party is going on. If I wasn’t so out of sorts after my less-than-warm welcome from the band, I would probably be having fun because it’s a cool venue. I see a lot of recognizable faces from the music industry, including a friend from college.

Taryn Blakeny is a model and the last time I saw her she was headed for L.A. to find her way in the world of glitz and glamor.

“Hey!” I give her a quick hug. “What are you doing here?”

“The guy I’m dating wanted to come.” She glances in the direction of a tall, bearded man with long hair wearing leather, chains, and biker boots. He looks vaguely familiar but I can’t place him.

“Is it serious?” I ask.

She lifts one shoulder. “I don’t know. Probably not. He’s kind of…a dick.”

“Then why are you dating him?”

“I did his band’s new music video. One thing led to another and I’ve been too lazy to walk away. You ever heard of Karnal Death?”

My brows lift.

That’show I know him.

I reviewed the band’s newest album—and it wasn’t pretty.

In my opinion, the melodies are basic, the lyrics uninspiring, and the music overall is so heavy that it’s hard to even listen to. And that’s coming from someone who’s a big fan of hard rock.

“I gave their album two-and-a-half stars,” I whisper.

She snickers. “I would give it zero stars.”

We giggle.

“I follow Rockin’ with Ryleigh,” she says, referring to my social media platform. “Looks like you’re doing well.”

“Thanks. I’m actually on tour with Crimson Edge and Nobody’s Fool,” I reply. “ForRock Harder Magazine.”

“Oh, wow. That’s great! Congratulations.”

“I would thank you, except the band isn’t particularly happy to have me around so I don’t have high hopes of writing anything substantial.”

“Why aren’t they happy about you being on tour?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, let’s go find out.” Before I can react, she takes my hand and drags me toward the bar, where Mick and Jonny are chatting it up with the bartender.

“Mickey!” Taryn and Mick apparently know each other because as soon as she calls his name, his face lights up.

“Taryn!” He pulls her in for a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with Callum.”

“Callum Yates?” He makes a face. “Jesus, woman—you could dosomuch better.”

Something that almost looks like regret flashes across her face but then it’s gone as quickly as it came, and she changes the subject.

“I just found out my girl Ryleigh is on tour with you guys—how cool is that?”

Mick lifts his beer in my direction. “We just met her tonight, so we don’t know yet.”

I chuckle.

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