Falling out of Hate with You: Hate - Love Duet Book One by Rowe, Lauren (novel books to read txt) 📕

Fitzy? I’ve never heard that before. It sounds to me like the name of a very tiny dog in a very fluffy tutu. I’m not sure I like it. But I decide, rather than mention this new, surprising nickname he’s concocted for me, to call him something I’ve never called him, in return. “I find it perplexing you’ve gone to the trouble of googling Malik and his track record with women, Adrian. What a strange thing for you to be wasting your time doing.”

Savage scowls when I call him Adrian, and then says, “I didn’t google him, Fitzy. Kendrick did and then wouldn’t shut the fuck up about what he’d found.”

I feel my shoulders droop with disappointment. But why? I should have known. Savage had the chance to hit on me at Reed’s party, every bit as much as Malik did. And Savage chose to hit on everyone else but me, and then leave early with whoever he’d settled on, while I was performing onstage. “Not that it’s any of your business,” I say, “but Malik and I have had some detailed conversations about his past behavior and I’ve told him I won’t put up with that kind of shit.” True. “He’s assured me he’s a new man.” Also, true. “I believe in second chances.” Again, true, although I’m not sure Malik Wallace is deserving of one. “So, I’ve decided to believe what Malik has told me, unless and until he proves me wrong.” Lies, lies, lies. I’m stupid when it comes to men, but I’m not a damned fool.

Savage rolls his eyes, looking remarkably, exquisitely pissed off. “A leopard doesn’t change his spots, Laila. Don’t be stupid.”

“You think maybe you’re projecting, Adrian? I’ve googled you, remember? And it looks to me like you’re the one who’s only as faithful as your options.”

“That’s false. I’m one hundred percent faithful, if I’ve made a commitment.” He winks. “Which is why I rarely make one.”

I scoff. “You want a medal for that?”

“No. I’m just defending myself. I’m a man of my word, if I’ve given it.”

“So, obviously, you don’t give your word regarding punctuality, huh?”

Savage’s face ignites. “I knew it!” he shouts gleefully. “I knew you’ve been secretly losing your mind whenever I’m late and biting your tongue about it until it bleeds.”

He’s right. He’s driven me bonkers these past two weeks with his perpetual lateness. Since that first time in Philadelphia, Savage was late for two additional soundchecks, as well as one early-morning departure on the buses. But all three times, I kept my mouth shut and my face neutral, even though I was annoyed as hell to witness him behaving so unprofessionally. I bat my eyelashes at him. “You’ve been late for something since Philly? I hadn’t noticed.”

Savage’s nostrils flare as he hands the bottle back to me. But he says nothing.

For a long moment, we sit in silence, both of us biting back smiles. Until finally, Savage sighs and says, “Seriously, Fitzy. Dump the basketball player. If your kink is trying to be the one woman a cheater doesn’t cheat on, then I’ve got news for you, baby. You need to find a new kink.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, guess what, Adrian? If your kink is doling out unsolicited advice to me, then I’ve got news for you, baby. You need to shut the fuck up, motherfucker.”

He bursts out laughing. I mean, the dude belly laughs. And I can’t help feeling like I’ve accomplished something amazing.

His laughter subsiding, Savage brings the bottle to his lips and mutters, “Touché, Fitzy. Too-fucking-shay.” I watch him sip and swallow, once again imagining his sensuous lips performing oral sex on me. It’s impossible not to imagine it. Everything about his song “Come with Me” suggests he’s an enthusiastic fan of that particular sex act. And the way he’s moving his mouth right now is insanely sexy.

Suddenly, I find myself wondering how the groupie thing works with him. On the one hand, I know his reputation. When I said I’ve googled him, it was the truth. Not that I needed to google him. Everything about him screams “manwhore.” Plus, I saw his reputation in action at Reed’s party, firsthand, so I know the dude’s got no qualms about hitting on women, one after another, until he gets what he wants.

On the other hand, I haven’t actually seen Savage with a single woman during this tour. Do his handlers quietly bring groupies to his room in every new city? I’ve noticed he doesn’t hang out and party nearly as much as his bandmates. Is that because he’s typically otherwise engaged in his room?

“Call me Savage, by the way,” he says, out of nowhere. “Only my family calls me Adrian.”

“Only if you agree not to call me ‘Fitzy’ again.”

“You don’t like Fitzy?”

“It sounds like the name of a white fluffy dog wearing a tutu.”

Savage chuckles. “Well, shit, now I’ve got no choice. You’re Fitzy for life.”

“Okay, then you’re Adrian.”

He pauses like he’s weighing his options, and finally says, “Yeah, it’s totally worth it.”

I roll my eyes. “So, anyway, Adrian, the whole reason I came out here was to clear the air with you. I think maybe you’ve been pissed about me trash-talking you in Philly for being late, and I—”

“I’m not pissed about that.”

“No?”

He pulls a face like that’s a ridiculous notion. “Why would I give a flying fuck what you think?”

My lips part and my brow furrows. Did this motherfucker just insult me while forgiving me for insulting him? But before I’ve responded, the sound of sharp laughter and familiar voices cuts through the darkness and causes both of us to jolt and lean back like we’ve been doing something wrong over here.

The voices belong to Ruby, a couple people from my band, and Kendrick. And the minute Kendrick’s voice becomes identifiable, Savage’s entire body stiffens. He hastily stubs out his cigarette, clears his throat, and pops up, looking very much like a kid who’s just been caught with his hand in a