Chapter 21
Angus
I know this isn’t the time to scold her about taking chances with her health because I can see how difficult it is for her to admit that she struggles with money.
“The truth is,” she continues after a moment, “I have a rainy-day-anything-that-can-go-wrong fund. But that’s all there is, so I didn’t want to blow through it for an ER visit for something like a sinus infection.”
“I understand.”
“I could get a real job, and eventually I might have to, but I don’t see myself in some boring nine-to-five situation. When I was in college, I had a student health plan, and in the two years since I graduated, I haven’t been sick. It’s just…” She hesitates.
“What?” I ask.
“Do you know what brCA is?”
“That’s…some kind of breast cancer thing, isn’t it?”
“It’s the gene that works to prevent you from getting breast cancer. Except sometimes it’s broken, and that’s called a mutation. If you have that broken gene, your chances of getting breast, and sometimes other kinds, of cancer are exponentially higher.”
“And you have it?” I ask in surprise.
“My mom made me get tested when she was diagnosed. She died of breast cancer.”
“Oh, shit, honey. I’m sorry.”
“Look, at the end of the day, Rich and my dad were friends for decades. When Dad got his terminal diagnosis, he went to Rich and asked him to give me a shot. So this has all been a favor for a dying man. I don’t believe he wants me there, but I’m trying my best because I made my dad a promise. I see my doctor every six months, and we’ll talk about taking precautionary steps once I have insurance.”
“Precautionary. Like a mastectomy.”
She nods. “Yeah. I mean, I’m fine. My chances of getting cancer are higher than normal, but it’s not guaranteed, and we’re watching it. After I’m done with this tour, if I still don’t get a full-time position with Rock Harder , I’m going to explore other options.”
“Fight for what you want,” I interrupt. “I mean it. You’ve done a hell of a job. But aren’t they paying you more now that you’re doing more than just album reviews?”
“Sure. If you can call it pay.”
“How much did you make for the Lexi story? Is it okay to ask?”
“Five hundred.”
My eyes widen. “That’s all? What the fuck, Ryleigh?”
“That’s actually high. Normally, I make a hundred bucks per album review, and I usually do two a month.”
I blink.
People live on that kind of money?
Okay, I know they do. Some people live on less. The guys in the band had all kinds of crazy jobs to make ends meet before we went on tour. Sam worked construction and was a substitute teacher, Mick worked in his father’s auto repair shop, and Jonny waited tables. The only one who supported himself with his music was Tate, who worked at a music store and gave private lessons. But they were in survival mode, willing to make that kind of sacrifice for the band.
I know it can be tough out there, but there’s something about Ryleigh that brings out a protective side of me. A side I don’t tap into very often. She’s young, just twenty-four, and from what I can tell, she’s alone in the world. I don’t know why I care so much, but I do.
“What about your influencer stuff?” I ask.
“Honestly, I’ve had to put it on the back burner while I’ve been on tour. Between interviews, attending all the live sound checks and live shows, writing a big article, traveling almost every day, and now being sick, I’m behind on new content.”
“Can I help?” The words pop out before I can stop them and I mentally grimace, wondering if I’ve just made a grave error.
“Well…” She gives me a look of frustration. “I did ask for your help.”
Oh, shit.
I forgot all about how she asked me to talk about how I do the water portion of my drum show.
And how badly I treated her. Again .
“You did. I’m sorry. You caught me at a bad moment. I was desperate to find Alden and get him out of there before anyone recognized him. I apologize for that. But I’d love to help you. What do you need?”
“I think my followers would really like seeing you…shirtless.” She pauses, smiling mischievously. “Giving some sort of drum demonstration. Like with the water.” She’s so hesitant, I realize she had no intention of ever asking for anything else that might help with content for Rockin’ with Ryleigh, even though she needs it.
Just like she wouldn’t ask for help when she was sick.
“I know what I look like without a shirt,” I say dryly, “and that women like it. Sex appeal is a huge part of rock and roll. Don’t worry—I don’t feel exploited.”
We both laugh, and she seems to visibly relax, a smile curving her lips.
Fuck, I really love her smile.
“So… you think we could do something like that?”
“Sure. Let me get with the band about timing… oh! I have an idea. We’re doing that outdoor festival in South Dakota coming up—that’s the perfect venue for something like that.”
She looks hesitant again. “I don’t want to cause any problems with the band…”
“It’s not a problem. Don’t worry. We just need to talk logistics.”
“I really appreciate this. I do have a girls’ day type of thing planned with Lexi and Kirsten on Sunday since it’s a relatively short drive from Columbus to Detroit. The plan is to get there by noon and then we’ll have the whole day to get our nails done, lunch, and shopping. You know, a day in the life of two rock chicks. Something like that.”
“And that kind of thing helps you?”
“There are tons of different ways I make money. They pay me if I get enough views. I also have sponsorship opportunities, stuff like that, so it’s convoluted.”
I know she’ll be offended if I offer her money, so I’m glad I can help in another way.
“I’ll talk to the band tomorrow about when I can do it for you. And I’ll bet Jonny would be happy to talk to you, one-on-one. The ladies really like him and his pretty face.”
She laughs. “He’s okay, I guess.”
I arch my brows curiously. “Not a fan?”
“Oh, I’m a fan of Jonny Gold the singer, but he’s not my type physically.”
“I didn’t think such a woman existed. I’ve never seen him get turned down unless the woman is taken. And even then, I’ve seen him come close.”
She shrugs. “We all have a type, you know?”
I study her beautiful face.
Framed by that gorgeous red hair.
We all definitely have a type.
And she’s mine.
The waiter arrives with our food, and it’s delicious. Ryleigh devours hers, obviously starving after so many days of subsisting on Gatorade and granola bars, so I don’t hesitate to order dessert when we’re done.
“I’m stuffed,” she protests.
“Trust me—the cannoli-stuffed cheesecake is worth every calorie.”
She groans, but her eyes are bright with interest.
When is the last time I had such a good time on a date?
I don’t know for sure this is officially a date, but I’m treating it like one. I still feel bad about the way I behaved after we slept together, so this is probably a feeble attempt at making it up to her. Tate would say I’m trying to buy her forgiveness, and maybe he’s right, but there’s more to it than that.
The bonus is spending the evening looking at her.
Talking to her.
Listening to her laugh.
Watching her excitement over something as simple as a faux champagne cocktail.
Has no one ever spoiled her before?
My gut tells me no.
“Do you think you’ll have the energy to go for a walk?” I ask her. “We’re not far from the arch, and it’s pretty at night.”
“I’d love to,” I say. “I think I’ll be fine as long as we don’t walk too fast.”
“I can walk slow.”
I take care of the bill, and we step out onto the street.
She looks around and smiles.
“I’m really lucky,” she says softly.
“Lucky?”
“That I get to do this. That I got to be on tour with you guys. Even if it’s coming to an end, look at all the places and things I got to see… I’ve never traveled much as an adult. I went on tour with my dad as a kid, but he didn’t have time for tourist stuff, so it was just hotels, arenas, and concert halls. This is different.”
“Want to take some selfies?”
“Sure.” We make our way to a spot where we can get the arch in the background and do a handful of shots. Then she steps away from me and starts recording a video.
“Hey, guys! Sorry I’ve been quiet but I had a sinus infection, a double ear infection, and a ruptured eardrum—but I’m feeling better so tonight I took a walk around St. Louis. This is my first time seeing the arch… isn’t it gorgeous? Thank you to Angus Jeffries for showing me around!” She turns it off and smiles at me. “When we get back to the hotel, I’ll edit the video and still shots of our selfies. Then I’ll post.”
“Wow, you come up with stuff on the fly?”
“It’s not rocket science.”
“Yeah, but it’s still pretty cool.”
“I’ve been doing it for four years, so it’s second nature now.”
“Well, maybe with some help from the band, we can help you get to the next level.”
There he goes being nice again.
I don’t know why it’s so unnerving when he does it. Like I don’t want to see the good sides of him because I already like him too much.
Even when he’s being an ass.
And I’m not sure what to do about it.