Chapter 237 Riley Wasthe First 2

• As we got closer to the door, my heart sped up. I knew it couldn’t be Derek – the flight from LA to Atlanta was probably five hours, and then there was all the time at the airport beforehand, not to mention the hour-plus drive to Athens. And he’d only been released from rehab about four hours ago, according to the text from Miles.
• But I was nervous just the same until Ryan opened the door.
• There stood a certain short, long-haired guitarist dressed all in black – and stinking of weed. I have to say, though, it was one of the few times I had ever seen him without a joint in his lips or a guitar in his arms.