Falling out of Hate with You: Hate - Love Duet Book One Rowe, Lauren (black books to read TXT) 📖

was needling me about the whole thing and I wanted to be nice and save you from embarrassment.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true.”

“Well, if it’s true, which I don’t believe, then you didn’t do it to be nice to me. You did it because you want Colin to think you’re available.”

“Absolutely not.”

I throw up my hands. “You can’t do that, Laila! I just got finished telling that Penelope chick you’re my girlfriend! And that’s how I expect you to play this, too—to remain in character at all times, with everyone, including Colin.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“I sure as hell do. I paid two million bucks to get to decide that and anything else having to do with this ridiculous arrangement.”

Uh oh. She’s no longer amused. She’s downright pissed now. “And ‘anything else’?” she parrots. “What am I—a mail order bride? A blowup doll?” She scoffs. “News flash, Savage. You paid two million bucks to save your own ass. Not to purchase me.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, I do,” she says. “And that’s the problem. Regardless, even if I were going to agree that you’re my lord and master and omnipotent in all ways, we still can’t put the genie back in the bottle regarding Colin. He knows we’re not really a couple, and that’s that, unless you want me to run out there and scream, ‘Just kidding! I’m actually desperately in love with Savage!’”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Go on now, baby. Chop chop.”

She rolls her eyes.

“At a bare minimum,” I say, “I demand you to stop flirting your ass off with Colin.”

She gasps. “I wasn’t flirting with Colin!”

“Well, he was sure as hell flirting with you.”

“We’re friends.”

“Have you ever fucked him?”

“No, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kissed him?”

She shakes her head. “We’re friends.”

I narrow my eyes. “Friends don’t smile at each other like that, Laila. And they don’t lean in like that.” I scoff. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I know what I saw.”

“You’re insane.”

“Not everyone here is associated with the show. The photographer is still here. Same with the caterer. And what about Reed’s friends and housekeeper? What’s to keep any of them from hearing the news about our ‘relationship’ at tomorrow’s press conference and then realizing, ‘Huh. That’s weird. I saw Laila flirting with some other guy all night long. Hey, I think I got some video of her flirting with him in the background. Why don’t I post that now on Twitter!’”

“You belong in an insane asylum.”

“No, I’d be insane if I didn’t learn from my past experiences. I’m once bitten, twice shy.” I take a few steps to my right, lean against the washing machine, and sigh. “You’ve never experienced my level of fame before, Laila. I’m not saying that to be a jerk. I’m trying to explain you can never be too careful. You never know who might leap at the chance to get their fifteen minutes, on your back. I’m saying we can’t take any chances. I don’t want this job to get fucked up, because you forgot this isn’t actually a romcom we’re starring in together, it’s a spy thriller.”

Well, she can’t help grinning at that, no matter how annoyed she’s felt up to this point. Her shoulders visibly soften. Her eyes sparkle. “I understand. I’ll be much more careful, going forward.”

“Thank you.”

“And don’t worry. If Colin seemed to be flirting with me a tiny bit, I promise it was harmless. He and his girlfriend recently broke up, and this is the first time we’ve both been single at the same time, so I think—”

I throw up my hands again. “You’re not single, Laila!”

She jolts at my sudden shift in tone.

I can’t help myself. I shout, “You’re in a relationship with me. What have we been talking about this whole time? Jesus Christ, Laila!” When she looks at me like I’m crazy again, I see myself through her eyes and realize I might really and truly be devolving into madness. Quickly, I add, “That’s what you need to be thinking. That’s what I mean. Like you said in the car, we need to stay in character. Like, you know, method actors.”

“When we’re in front of the cameras.”

“No, at all times, or nobody will buy our performance. Haven’t you heard about method actors who won’t let anyone call them by their real name on-set? Ever seen Fast Times at Ridgemont High?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, we gotta watch that one together. Sean Penn played this stoner surfer dude. And he stayed in character throughout the entire shoot of the movie, both on and off camera. Wouldn’t let anyone call him by his real name. Only the character’s name—Spicoli. Because that’s the kind of commitment it takes to make a performance truly believable.”

She pauses for a very long moment. “Which actor is Sean Penn? What else has he been in?”

“Sean Penn’s illustrious career doesn’t matter! All I’m saying is that from this point on, unless you’re sure we’re alone, behind closed doors, and nobody else is around, then we need to agree we’re always going to remain in character.”

She twists her mouth adorably, no longer looking pissed. But she says nothing.

And, suddenly, thanks to the way she’s contorting her sensuous lips, I’m flooded with the urge to kiss her. I clear my throat. “I know you’re pissed when I bring up the money, Laila, but have mercy on me. I’m paying you two million bucks. The least you can do is deliver an Academy-award-worthy performance.”

She licks her lips, drawing my gaze to her mouth again. And when my eyes return to hers, I feel a shift between us. Heat crackling in the gap between our bodies.

“Okay,” she says softly, her gaze drifting to my lips. “I promise I’ll do my very best.”

My chest is tight. My skin hot. “Thank you. That’s all we can both do.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she says, her gaze drifting, yet again, to my lips.

I step forward, deciding this is it. The moment, at last. I’m going to kiss Laila and then