Falling Into Love with You (The Hate-Love Duet Book 2) by Rowe, Lauren (grave mercy .TXT) 📕

For a long moment, we lie quietly, our bodies entwined in the moonlight. Suddenly, though, she lifts her head and says, “One tiny question about the past before we leave it for good. How did you know I played HORSE at Reed’s party, and writhed around on the ground when I missed my shot?”

My stomach tightens. “Huh?”

“You mentioned that at the press conference, but you were nowhere near the basketball court when I did that. In fact, right after the game, I saw you hitting on a pretty woman by the pool.”

I push Laila’s long hair behind her bare shoulder. “I wasn’t hitting on that woman. She was a reporter for Rock ‘n’ Roll and we were talking about my interview.”

“I didn’t know there were two reporters at that party!”

I nod. “While I was talking to the reporter, I glanced over at the basketball court, just in time to see none other than Laila Fitzgerald miss her shot and then drop to the ground like a goofball.”

She giggles. “Why didn’t you come inside and watch my performance with Aloha and the Goats, after I walked past you?”

“You mean, why didn’t I follow you into the house, after you walked past me, flanked by Malik and Kendrick?”

“Oh.”

I chuckle. “That’s when I decided, once and for all, to give Kendrick a wide berth to take his shot.”

Laila twists her mouth but says nothing.

“Any other questions before we leave the past and never, ever think about it again?” I ask.

Laila pauses. “No. I think I’m good. You?”

“I’m good.”

She makes a goofy, cartoonish series of expressions and sounds, which I quickly find out, based on her next words, is her version of “erasing” the hard drive in her brain. She says, in a computerized voice, “Reed’s party and the tour are now officially erased from the hard drive of Laila Fitzgerald’s brain. Goodbye.” She closes her eyes and lets her tongue hang out.

I laugh. “You dork. I can’t believe they hired you as my babysitter.”

“I fooled them all.”

“You sure did.” When she yawns, I add, “Time for bed. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. We need our beauty sleep. Which, by the way, is what you should be saying to me, babysitter.”

“Oh, I should put on my zit cream.” With that, she hops out of bed and pads out of the room, much to my disappointment. And that’s it. All hope I had Laila would sleep here in this room with me—

Oh. She’s back. Carrying a toiletry bag and heading into my bathroom with a little wink. I hear a commotion in there. The shower turning on. And a moment later, the sound of Laila singing “Fireflies” by 22 Goats in the shower wafts into the bedroom.

My heart thumping, I head into the bathroom, step into the shower with her, and kiss her. And, instantly, my body makes it clear I’m damned happy to see her. I wash her wet, naked skin. Kiss her breasts. And when I can’t resist any longer, drop to my knees and eat her out, with hot water running down my face and back.

After she comes, she returns the favor, while I press my palms against the plexiglass of the shower and groan like a yeti. When I come, we indulge in another round of washing, kissing, and caressing. But finally, she smacks my ass and tells me we need to get our beauty sleep, and we begrudgingly drag our asses out of the shower.

After drying off, I secure a white towel around my waist and watch Laila applying cream to her face.

“It’s a crying shame condoms don’t work in water, don’t you think?” I say, leaning my hip against the bathroom counter.

Laila stops what she’s doing and looks at me. “Is that your way of asking me if I’m on birth control?”

I grin. “It sure is.”

Laila smirks. “Yes, I’ve got an IUD. But that’s only to prevent me from getting knocked up accidentally. My firm rule is ‘No wrapper, no dice, unless we’re in a committed relationship and I trust you completely.’”

I furrow my brow, as Laila resumes her nighttime routine. I think she just implied she doesn’t trust me completely. That’s what she meant by that, right? “I’ve already promised I’m only going to have sex with you for the next three months,” I say. “That’s basically the same thing as a ‘committed relationship.’ And I promise you can trust me completely.”

Not stopping what she’s doing in the mirror, Laila says, “How shall I put this, Adrian? Oh, I know. I don’t.”

“Trust me?”

“Correct. Not completely. But don’t be offended. My complete trust is very hard to get. And you’ve got quite a reputation.”

“I thought we agreed to forget the past.”

“We did. But even so, I could google you right now, in the present, and instantly find out you’re not the best bet to let raw-dog me.”

“So, is your concern that I’m not clean or that I’m going to cheat on you? Because I’ve already promised I won’t have sex with anyone else, and that’s a promise you can take to the bank, ten out of ten times. On the other hand, if you’re concerned I’m not clean, then I’m sure we could arrange for a doctor to test us both tomorrow, either on the set at lunchtime or here at the house after work.”

Laila considers my suggestion for a long moment, making my heart thump in my ears with anticipation. Finally, she says, “Do you swear on your love for Mimi you won’t sleep with anyone else, the whole time we’re living together?”

I grimace. “Can we please leave my grandmother out of this conversation about raw-dogging you?”

She laughs. “Fair enough. Do you swear on your life?”

“I do. I won’t touch anyone else while we’re living together. I’ve already promised that in writing.”

“To the show, in order to avoid the risk of a ‘cheating scandal.’ What I’m asking is for you to promise me, personally. And then, to keep that promise, no matter what.”

I walk to