Falling Into Love with You (The Hate-Love Duet #2) - Lauren Rowe Page 0,3

be nothing but totally honest with me. Even if the truth hurts, that’s what I want to hear.”

Aloha puffs out her cheeks. “Okay, well, if I’m being totally honest with you, it seems to me the song is a ‘gloating song’ about Savage having sex with you. A song written to taunt Malik, far more than to express any secret feelings he was having for you. I mean, Savage literally asks, at the end, if ‘he’—meaning Malik—made you come three times, the same way Savage did. If that’s not a pissing contest between two dudes—if that’s not Savage running a victory lap—then I don’t know what is.”

My heart feels like it’s lodged in my toes. Aloha is right, yet again. After his tussle with Malik in that restaurant, Savage wanted his adversary to know he’d won the game and claimed the prize. Also, that he’d done all of it exceedingly well. Savage sat down and wrote “Hate Sex High” to deride Malik, not because he felt tortured by his blossoming feelings for me. In the end, the song had very little to do with me, actually, and everything to do with his desire to flip the bird at Malik.

Suddenly, I feel like I’m standing in that hallway in Las Vegas, all over again. An acute sensation of rejection washes over me. I feel pathetic. Foolish. Embarrassed. Why do I still want Savage to want me, more than anyone else—but especially more than some random groupie he just met? Why does he still have this ridiculous hold over me?

Aloha says, “Aw, Laila. I could be wrong. After the night of the hot tub, was there any indication Savage was feeling ‘something’ he didn’t want to feel toward you? Think back.”

Images flood me. Savage’s arm slung over that groupie’s shoulders. A booze bottle dangling in his free hand. The woman’s obvious excitement that Savage had deigned to choose her. I hear her voice saying, “Let me at that famous body!” And every molecule in my body recoils and shudders at the memory. “No,” I reply, my spirit heavy. “On the contrary, the only indication was that Savage felt the same thing men always feel for me: nothing but lust.” I take a deep breath to regulate the pang of embarrassment twisting my core. How on earth did I hear “Hate Sex High” and turn it into a confessional about Savage catching feelings for me, when the truth is so damned obvious?

Aloha juts her lower lip in sympathy. “Aw, honey. Who cares what I think? I wasn’t there, and you were. Trust your gut.”

“I do. And my gut is telling me you’re right. It’s telling me I heard what I wanted to hear in the song, not what was actually there.”

Sighing, Aloha gets up from her chair and hugs me. “Oh, sweet Laila. You and your horrible taste in men.” She kisses my hair. “Why can’t you ever fall for guys who aren’t players and heartbreakers, girlie?”

I nuzzle into Aloha’s dark hair and exhale. “It’s my fatal flaw. I see a guy with multiple red flags sticking out of his hair and ears and asshole, and I run towards him, at full speed, rather than away.”

Aloha chuckles, while I groan in misery.

“I don’t even like Savage, as a person,” I say softly. “He’s an arrogant jerk. It’s like he’s cast a spell on me. Like I’m a drug addict and he’s my drug. I know he’s bad for me, but I can’t stop wanting him.”

Aloha pulls back from our embrace to level me with her green eyes. “Do you really want him—or do you want him to want you?”

“I want him to want me!” I shout, without hesitation. “Why doesn’t he want me, Aloha?”

Aloha chuckles. “Well, it seems pretty clear, from what I heard coming out of Savage’s room last night, you both want each other—physically, anyway.” She smooths my hair, presses a kiss to my forehead, and resumes her chair. “Buckle up, Buttercup. It sounds like the next three months are going to be a wild ride for you. You’re going to be living and working with Savage, and probably having amazing sex with him every night, too, if those sounds I heard last night were any indication. So, do yourself a favor and make sure you’re not projecting feelings onto him that might not be there. Or else, the next three months could really mess with your heart.”

I sigh. “Don’t worry. I’ve got my head on straight now. Savage has no