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

bun, making her chiseled cheekbones and plush lips all the more striking. Her alabaster skin, which always sort of glows, looks particularly supernatural in the moonlight.

Without hesitation, I begin walking toward her, whispering to myself as I go, “Happy birthday to me.”

Sixteen

Savage

I come to a stop on the ledge of the hot tub and look down at Laila . . . and immediately discover that she’s naked. Hallelujah. And that her body in that water is even more gorgeous than I’ve fantasized. Man, this birthday just keeps getting better and better.

“You’re gorgeous,” I whisper, and then press my lips together when I realize I’ve drunkenly blurted my thoughts aloud.

Laila smirks. “And you’re drunk.”

I bite back my smile. “A bit.”

“Eyes up here, Adrian.”

I begrudgingly comply.

She cocks an eyebrow. “I presume you’ve risked softening your chiseled abs tonight with way too much alcohol, in celebration of your birthday?”

“That’s right. Birthdays equal getting shitfaced. No exceptions.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. You were invited to the party.”

“I was busy.”

“Yeah, I bet. I saw the video. You’ve been drowning your sorrows tonight, I presume?” I gesture to the big bottle of booze on the ledge.

She takes a long swig from her bottle. “Fuck Malik. I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Fair enough.” I bite my lip. Shift my weight. Stare at her tits. And, finally, address the elephant in the room. “So . . . you’re single now?”

“I’m very, very single.”

Hot damn. My eyes drift to her naked body again. And I swear I have to suck on my teeth, vigorously, not to physically drool down my chin at the sight of her.

“Eyes up here, Adrian,” she says. And when I comply this time, she smiles and says, “So, are you finally ready to apologize for being an asshole to me?”

I pull a face. “Which time?”

She snorts. “Let’s start with your diatribe in Atlanta and work our way from there.”

“Nah. You deserved Atlanta. If anyone needs to apologize for being an asshole in Atlanta, it’s you.”

“Me?”

“Laila, you read me the Riot Act in front of everyone on the tour—and, in case you didn’t realize this, honey, you’re the opener.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, I admit I might have been a little out of line to—"

“A little? Come on. Nobody’s here. Admit you blew it. I had to say what I did. You were way out of line.”

She twists her mouth. “I admit I shouldn’t have said what I did in front of people. I should have pulled you aside and said it all in private. But I don’t regret what I said. All of it was true. Really, all you had to say to me was, ‘Hey, let’s step outside to talk about this.’ Or, better yet, ‘No problem, Laila! I’ll try to be more punctual and professional from now on, as a courtesy not only to you, but to every hardworking person on the tour, not to mention my fans!’ And I would have said, ‘I’m sorry I snapped in front of everyone. That was totally unprofessional of me.’”

“It was.”

She throws up her hands. “Yes, but I picked a poorly timed fist fight with you, Savage. And in response, you pulled out a freaking Uzi!”

“Whatever, dude. We could go ‘round and ‘round about what happened in Atlanta, and who was the bigger asshole, until the end of time. It would be you, by the way. But what’s the point?”

“I literally hate you.”

I chuckle. “Or, we could stop arguing about this, and agree to disagree, and, instead, move on to you answering a very important question for me.”

She tilts her head, clearly intrigued. “What’s the question?”

I squat down, leveling my eyes with hers. “On the night your boyfriend cheated on you for the entire world to see, do you want to sit here, naked, in a hot tub, arguing with a guy who’s got a big ol’ dick and knows how to use it . . . or, do you want to agree to a temporary cease-fire with said guy, long enough to have the best revenge sex of your life?”

Her blue eyes gleaming, Laila bites back a wicked smile. She runs a fingertip across the rim of her bottle like she’s teasing the tip of my cock. And every nerve ending in my body feels it. She says, “If I say yes, nobody can ever know.”

I flash her a look like I’m deeply insulted. “You’d be ashamed for anyone to know you’d fucked The Great Adrian Savage?”

She replies with a look of her own that says, Well, duh. She says, “After the way you treated me in Atlanta, with everyone watching? Hell yes, I’d be ashamed for anyone to know I fucked you. Honestly, I’d be mortified.”

“Says the girl who’s been dating Malik Wallace for at least two months,” I toss out. “But, whatever. Fine. Nobody will ever know.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“It’d be revenge sex—a one-time thing that would never happen again,” she declares. “Afterwards, it never happened.”

“I get it, dude. No need to say it five different ways. Although I want to be able to tell one trusted person.”

“Kendrick?” she asks.

I nod. “I tell him everything. Plus, I think it will help him let go of any lingering crush he might have on you.”

She juts her lower lip. “Poor Kendrick. He’s the sweetest person in the world.”

“Don’t feel sorry for him. He dodged a bullet. You’re a psychopath.”

To my surprise, she laughs. “True.”

“Too bad for him, you’re a psychopath who only likes assholes, eh?”

She doesn’t correct me. She merely says, “I get to tell one trusted person, too.”

“Naturally. Who?”

“Aloha. She’ll scream at me. Tell me I’m a predictable idiot. She doesn’t like you very much.”

“Why not? I’m amazing.”

“She thinks you’re a player.”

“Pfft. Tell her to get in line, sister. Any other conditions, terms, or stipulations, Fitzy?”

She ponders that for a moment. Or, at least, she pretends to. “No. That’s it. I’ll probably hate myself in the morning, but I have to know.”

“You have to know what?”

Her expression turns wicked. “If those famous shots of you in