Death—it is inevitable, but I didn't know it could come so early.
If things didn't change, mine would be sooner than expected.
My life hasn't been easy, though with the way I act you’d think it has been.
I'm a joker, a partier, a playboy, a prankster. But I'm also broken.
A shell of a man.
Ryan Hunter, lead guitarist with nothing to live for.
Not even music soothes me completely.
My band is back together, we're doing really well—but I'm in a rut.
I'm lost, thinking about my past is swallowing me whole.
Especially since she turned up.
Our new PR manager. She’s feisty, in control and so damn sexy I can't stand it.
But that woman is not only taking my PR role from me, she's also taking my breath away, and that I won't stand for.
Not with my past, not with my demons.
Tillie Marks has to go.
And I will make damn sure it happens!
Furrowing my brows at his attitude, I’m beginning to think Lunar’s surmise on Ryan being a fucker was right on the money. Even so, I can’t help but look past his assholery to see a broken man. A soft, kind hearted soul who just needs some gentle care. I wonder what’s happened in his life to form the dark circles under his eyes, and for him to put on this bravado act I can see right through.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.
“Like what?” I ask with a small amount of shock in my voice.
“I don’t know. You’re hard to read and you’re looking at me weird.”
“Oh God Ryan you’re so melodramatic.” Ryan frowns at Lunar as she walks in. “And leave Tillie alone. She’s the only other set of ovaries in this place, I need her alive.”
I smirk at her choice of words.
Ryan huffs. “You can have her all to yourself, I have no need for her.”
Ouch. I have to admit his words do sting a little. I like to be needed, and something in me wants to rush to Ryan and be his protector, even though he’s treating me like shit.
“Well, Ryan, you may not want me, but you’re stuck with me. So deal with it by putting your big boy panties on and behaving like an adult. You do know what an adult is, don’t you?” I tease.
He smirks. “Funny! Would someone who behaves like an adult be so condescending?”
I stiffen because he’s right. I hate to admit it, but he’s pushing my buttons and making me snappy because I’m so desperate for his approval. I’m never like this, never talk back to my clients, unless there’s real need for it. I’m here solely for PR work, and usually my clients listen to everything I say without question. After all, they’re paying for my expertise.
I’m not used to this, at all.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” he says but offers nothing in return.
My eyes open wide in infuriation as the others watch.
“Aren’t you sorry, too?” I ask.
I scoff. “What for? What for! Oh my… okay, I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to rile me up and anger me so I’ll quit, right?” His smile falters like he’s annoyed I’m onto him. “Well, let me tell you, Ryan Hunter, it will take more than that to get rid of me, sir!”
He tilts his head. “Leave it with me. I’m sure I’ll think of something—”
Australian author K E Osborn was born and raised in Adelaide, South Australia. With a background in graphic design and a flair for all things creative, she felt compelled to write the story brewing in her mind.
Writing gives her life purpose. It makes her feel, laugh, cry and get completely enveloped in the characters and their story lines. She feels completely at home when writing and wouldn’t consider doing anything else.