Falling Into Love with You (The Hate-Love Duet Book 2) Rowe, Lauren (read aloud TXT) 📖

yes, yes. We’re so excited. When she gets to Savage, however, and asks him if he’s excited about the season, he smiles at me and says, “I’ll say this: I’m excited to be here with Laila.”

“Aw,” the audience says, along with me, just as Savage leans forward and kisses me. As promised, the audience combusts when Savage’s lips touch mine, which prompts me to break away and act like I’m flustered and embarrassed by the crowd’s boisterous reaction. For his part, however, Savage leans back in his chair and flashes a look that says, “Yeah, I fucked her three times last night.” And the audience eats it up.

There’s a bit more pageantry from Sunshine, until, finally, she introduces the first audition of the season—a blue-haired cutie named Addison Swain from Madison, Wisconsin, age eighteen. At the sound of her name, Addison walks onstage, looking nervous and adorable. She greets the judges and Sunshine and says this is a dream come true. After a little chatter, she performs a bit of “Titanium” by Sia—instantly establishing, in my opinion, she’s the one to beat this season. I mean, holy hell, this blue-haired pixie can sing!

When Addison finishes her performance, the audience goes ballistic. As they should. On impulse, I bolt out of my chair and give Addison a standing ovation—which makes the girl burst into soggy tears. When the audience’s applause dies down, Jon, Aloha, and I give Addison our effusive praise, with me being the most effusive. And, finally, all eyes turn to Savage, who’s apparently already positioned himself as The Hard-to-Impress Judge.

“I agree with everyone else,” Savage says calmly. “Addison, you’ve got some serious pipes and stage presence. You get an unreserved ‘atta girl’ from me.”

The audience loses their collective mind. And, just this fast, it’s clear Savage’s opinion is going to hold more weight than anyone else’s this season. Why? I don’t know, exactly. All I know is that Savage’s opinion has always held a whole lot of weight for me, too.

“Okay, judges,” Sunshine says. “It’s time to decide if you want to use one of your valuable tokens on Addison, in order to mark her as someone you want to haggle over on Draft Day!”

Jon and Aloha say they adored Addison’s performance, but they’re going to pass, since it’s early days yet. But Savage and I both throw in our precious tokens, signifying we plan to fight over Addison, tooth and nail, when the time comes, and the audience claps and screams their approval of our choice.

And away we go, seeing audition after audition after Addison’s, with varying degrees of success. Finally, the long day is over, and Nadine appears at the judges’ table, bursting with enthusiasm. She tells Savage and me we “killed it” and that we should continue doing everything as we did today. I thank Nadine effusively, feeling the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders, while Savage, predictably, says nothing.

After a bit, Nadine asks Savage to come with her backstage. “My boss brought his thirteen-year-old to the taping today,” she explains. “And apparently, she’s a huge Fugitive Summer fan.”

“I’m pretty tired, Nadine,” Savage says, much to my shock. Dude. This woman is our boss and she’s trying to impress her boss. Does Savage not understand workplace politics at all?

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” Nadine says. “I’d be grateful.”

“Go on,” I say in a casual tone, but my eyes are screaming, “Don’t be an idiot! This woman signs the check you split with me!”

“Uh, okay,” Savage says, peeling his gaze off mine. “I’d be happy to do it.” He shoots me a look that says, Happy now? And I shoot him one that says, Yes, I am, dumbass. Thank you.

Savage leaves with Nadine, throwing over his shoulder as he goes, “I’ll come to your dressing room when I’m done, babe.”

“Okay, babe,” I reply, and then giggle at the wink he shoots me, just before turning away.

“Laila.”

I turn and discover Aloha standing before me, her famous green eyes sparkling.

“Hey, girl,” I say. “What a day, huh? I’m exhausted.”

“Every audition day is always exhausting,” she says. “Hey, will you come hang out with me in my dressing room while I change? I’d love to chat with you about your first day.”

“Great.”

As we walk, Aloha and I talk casually about the day. Mostly, about the amazing talent we’ve seen. But the second we get into Aloha’s dressing room, and she’s closed the door behind us, she whirls around and whisper-shouts, “What the hell is going on with you and Savage?”

Twelve

Laila

“What do you mean what’s going on?” I say to Aloha, taken aback.

She drags me to a couch on the far side of her dressing room. “I mean you and Savage couldn’t keep your hands off each other all day, even when the cameras were off. You exchanged googly-eyed looks and goofy smiles, even when the cameras were off. And you giggled at everything that man said, even when it wasn’t funny, even when the cameras were off. So, I’m asking you, ‘What the heck is going on between you and that man that you haven’t told me,’ because I know you and this is exactly how you act when you’re gone, baby, gone!”

I flop onto the couch and rub my face. “You nailed it. I’m gone, baby, gone.”

“Oh, girl.”

“I’m in big trouble here, Aloha.” I throw up my hands. “Savage is The Beast and I’m Belle and last night was our snowball fight!”

Aloha gasps. “No.”

“Yes!”

“Holy hell, Laila. The boy gives you a few orgasms and suddenly you’ve got amnesia about all the times he made you cry during the tour?”

“Well, it wasn’t just a few orgasms,” I mutter, snickering. And when Aloha chastises me nonverbally, I add, “Okay, look, I know Savage was a colossal jerk to me during the tour. But I wasn’t exactly a saint to him.”

“You didn’t deserve what he did to you, though. That tirade in Atlanta. The groupies he brought to your dressing rooms. The groupie he fucked in Vegas,