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

I release you for lunch,” he says, “let’s get some pickups and close-ups with each judge-mentor duo. Laila and Colin, you’re up first!” The director points toward a mark on the other side of the soundstage, and Laila and Colin get up and head to where he’s indicated, with Laila not even bothering to look at me before she leaves.

“You’re freaking out about Colin again, huh?” Kendrick says in a whisper, the minute Laila and Colin are gone. “Dude, Laila’s only doing what the director tells her to do. The same as the photographer during that photo shoot.”

I run my palm down my face. “I messed up today, KC.” I tell him the gist of this morning’s stunt involving Charlie, and then add, “I thought I was helping Laila and now she’s pissed at me in a way that feels disproportionate. For a while, I thought she had to be playing along, but now it seems she’s genuinely pissed at me. She keeps saying she’s ‘hurt’ and that she’s trying not to burst into ‘tears.’ And I’m like, ‘What the fuck is going on?’”

Kendrick shakes his head. “I told you not to do anything with that information about Charlie. I told you to let bygones be bygones, Savage! But did you listen to me? No.”

“I was helping her, man.”

“No, you were being a vindictive dick.”

“Not this time! I swear to God.”

The director yells, “Okay, let’s have Kendrick and Savage over here next!”

With a long exhale, I get up with Kendrick and walk to the middle of the soundstage, passing Laila and Colin as they return to the table. Of course, Laila doesn’t look at me as she passes. On the contrary, she pretends to be deep in conversation with her assigned mentor who just so happens to be an underwear model, as well as a kickass, tatted drummer. And suddenly, I feel like everything I’ve ever done to show Laila who I really am doesn’t matter. I’m right back at square one with her. So why even bother to try?

When we reach our mark, the director tells Kendrick and me what to do, and we go through the motions, after which the director moves on to shooting the other two remaining judge-mentor duos while I resume my seat next to Laila. Finally, lunchtime is called. The director shouts, “After lunch, let’s start with Laila and Colin and Laila’s team, while the other judges and mentors rotate through some B-roll with their teams. Take forty-five, people!”

There’s a commotion around us, as people begin scattering, and Aloha and Fish head over to Colin and Laila sitting to my right. There’s a brief conversation I can’t make out because that Penelope fucker—Jon’s mentor—has waltzed over to Kendrick on my left and is talking way too loudly to him in my ear.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I hear Laila saying, just before she and Colin rise from the table.

“Oh, is everyone headed to lunch together?” I ask, thinking I’ll invite myself and Kendrick to join Laila and her group, whether Laila likes it or not.

“No, Colin and I are going to grab box lunches and eat in my dressing room, instead of joining Fish and Aloha in the cafeteria. Colin wants me to give him the 4-1-1 about each of my contestants before he meets them after lunch. Hi, Kendrick.”

“Hi, Laila.”

“I’m so happy to see you. Let’s catch up later.”

“Sounds good.”

Without a word to me, Laila heads off with Colin, leaving me watching her departing frame like a dog pressing his nose against a window as his owner heads off to work.

“Ooph, she’s definitely pissed at you,” Kendrick whispers once Laila is out of earshot.

“I told you. I thought she’d understand what I was trying to do for her. I actually thought she’d be grateful for what I did, but she’s gone off the deep end.”

“Well, it’s not like you came into today with a clean slate.”

I turn my head sharply to scowl at Kendrick. “What the hell does that mean?”

Kendrick looks unfazed by my death glare. “It means the stunt you pulled this morning was the same kind of shit you pulled throughout the tour. Maybe she’s thinking the past weeks were a blip—an act—and now you’ve reverted back to true form.”

I roll my eyes. “That can’t be it. Laila’s been living with me, night and day, Kendrick. She’s seen me sing Mimi to sleep. We’ve had deep conversations and watched movies and eaten meals together. She knows who I am. She knows what I’m really about. Or, at least, I thought she did.”

Kendrick shrugs. “That was my best guess. I mean, Laila’s not crazy. Passionate, yes. Does she have a bit of a temper? Yes. But she’s not legit nuts. So there’s got to be something logical behind her reaction.”

I look toward the exit again and exhale, feeling every cell in my body vibrating with the need to understand what’s going on. To fix it, whatever it is. “I’ll go to her dressing room now, and ask her—"

“No, no, not now.” Kendrick sighs from the depths of his soul. “I wish I had a recording of me saying that to you, so I could press a button and save my vocal cords.”

“I can’t sit here and play it cool, KC. Laila is in her dressing room with Colin, feeling far more pissed off at me for what I did than is logical. God only knows what that crazy woman is thinking—what she’d do to torture me, if she thinks I’ve got it coming. For all I know, she’s blowing Colin in there, as we speak!”

Kendrick rolls his eyes. “Would you stop being a jealous lunatic for a minute and listen to me? I swear, when it comes to Laila, you’re a madman.”

“Yes, I am,” I admit. “That goddamned woman turns me into a madman. But even so, I’m not crazy this time. I can feel in my bones Colin wants her. He didn’t suggest they eat lunch in Laila’s dressing room, alone, to talk