Page 93 of Living on the Edge

“Sure.”

“Everyone stay in touch by text!” Sam calls as we start walking in different directions. “There won’t be a full sound check, but Jimbo said we’ll have about ten minutes to make sure everything is set up properly.” Jimbo is the new tour manager Sasha hired. We hadn’t thought we needed one since Bobby handles most of that kind of thing, but we’ve gotten successful enough that we now warrant an official tour manager.

Ryleigh slides her hand into mine as we walk, and it’s nice to have a little time before the show. We were supposed to have a meal at five, but that’s too close to show time now, so I don’t know what the plan is. I need at least an hour after I eat before I can play.

“The details of shows like this fascinate me,” Ryleigh says. “So many people, booths, bands, vendors…I can’t imagine what goes into putting together an event this big.”

“It’s pretty wild, but the idea of running one turns me on. I can picture myself being in charge of something like this—later in life. Like in another twenty years, when we’re only touring every other year instead of every year.”

She grins. “Sounds good to me. You handle the logistics; I’ll handle the advertising and marketing.”

“I guess we have our retirement plan,” I laugh, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

Before she can respond I hear a familiar voice calling to us.

“Ryleigh!” Taryn comes running in our direction, and the ladies hug.

“What up, Angus/August?”

Callum Fucking Yates.

Coming over to say hello was probably a stupid idea but it’s too late now, so I turn with a fake smile.

“Callum.”

I hold out my hand, hoping he can’t tell how much I dislike him.

Sometimes being polite is a pain in the ass.

Chapter28

Ryleigh

Angus lookslike he’d rather be anywhere else, but Callum pumps his hand like they’re old friends.

“We’re going to powder our noses!” Taryn calls out, tugging me away from the guys.

“How are you?” I ask, sliding my arm through hers.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know why I stay with the surly bastard. I guess it’s because he has a big dick.”

“The sex can’t be that good,” I say, laughing. “Can it?”

She does a little shrug thing. “It’s pretty good. It’s just the other twenty-two hours a day that suck.”

“It’s hard to find guys who are good in bed,” I acknowledge, since I know that firsthand.

“How’s Angus?”

“Amazing.” I smile. “Both in and out of bed.”

“Lucky you.”

Yeah, until I tell him what kind of story I’m supposed to be writing.

“Can you keep a secret?” I ask softly.

“Of course.”

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