Falling Out of Hate with You (The Hate-Love Duet 1)

“They didn’t require that of you.”

“True, but what self-respecting fake girlfriend would make her fake boyfriend resist temptation for three months, all by himself?”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

“Sure thing,” she says. “You want to get shitfaced with me tonight, as a last hurrah?”

“I’m down.”

“Fair warning: I’ll probably be a lightweight tonight,” she says. “I haven’t been drunk for a while. I’ve been on a health kick lately. Eating clean.”

“Yeah, you look really good.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

Heat passes between us. Or, at least, I feel it. And, again, I find myself wondering how the hell she resisted me for a full month—after knowing, for a fact, we’re a five-alarm fire together. Was Charlie that amazing in bed?

My phone buzzes in my lap and I look down to find a text from Kendrick, asking me what happened at today’s meeting with Laila. I motion to my phone. “Kendrick is wondering what happened at the meeting today. Do you think it’d be a breach of my contract to tell him the truth about the situation? You know, about you and me?” As Laila knows, the producers were adamant that the truth about our fake relationship is “top secret.” To be divulged only on a “need to know” basis.

Laila purses her lips and shifts her position on the car seat. “I think it’s fine. The producers said not to tell anyone not directly related to the show, remember? But Kendrick is directly related to the show, since he’s going to be your mentor this season. Even if you didn’t trust him like a brother, I’m sure his contract contains a confidentiality clause, the same as ours.”

“Excellent point, counselor.”

“But don’t worry, if I’m technically wrong and you aren’t allowed to tell him, I promise on our fake love not to rat you out to the producers for spilling the beans.”

Warmth pools in my chest at the adorable look on her face. “Thanks. If you want to text your mom and sister and tell them the situation, I also promise on our fake love not to rat you out. I know how close you are with them.”

Laila’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “How do you know that?”

My chest tightens. “You talked about them during the tour.”

“Not to you. I’m sure I never told you anything about my mom and sister.”

I feel my cheeks turning red. “You told Ruby or Kendrick when I was sitting nearby, I think . . .”

She looks floored but says nothing.

My cheeks burning hot, I say, “You mentioned your mom a couple times during your hideously exploitative Sylvia interview. You know, the one where you used me as click-bait? So, maybe that’s what I’m remembering.”

Laila rolls her eyes.

“So, are you going to tell your family or not?” I ask, desperate to deflect.

“No. I think I’ll keep things to myself for a while. My sister is trustworthy, but give my mom some wine and a few of her best friends, and she’d likely babble the whole damned story, without meaning to do it.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, it’s probably best to keep things tight as a drum for now, and stick with only telling people directly involved with the show.”

“Agreed. Better safe than sorry.”

“So, are you gonna tell Aloha, then?” I ask.

“Yeah. She’s going to laugh her ass off.” Chuckling, she grabs her phone while I grab mine.

“Tell Aloha I say hi,” I say.

“The same to Kendrick. Oh, hey . . .” She pushes on my thigh, and her touch sends a blast of arousal streaking through me. “Ask Kendrick to send me the scoop on babysitting Adrian Savage, since keeping you from self-destructing is apparently my actual job now.”

“I can already tell you what he’s going to say: ‘You’re fucked. There’s no owner’s manual. Every day with every one of Savage’s many personalities is a new adventure.’”

She snorts. “More like a nude adventure.”

I can’t help laughing. “Are you complaining about that? Because if so, you’re the only one.”

“Oh, God. I’ve got to endure three months of this?” With that, she looks down and starts tapping away. I watch her for a moment, admiring her profile. And, finally, grab my phone and tap out a reply to Kendrick.

Me: Crisis averted. The meeting was IN-FUCKING-SANE, but, in the end, I’m still a judge, by the skin of my teeth, and you’re still my team’s mentor. But in a shocking twist, Laila is now the show’s first-ever fourth judge and my live-in fake girlfriend for the entire season.

Kendrick: WHAAAAT?!?!?!

Me: It’s reality TV, baby! LOL. They think a “romance storyline” will bring in record ratings. They’re getting us a cool pad with lots of amenities so we can do tons of behind the scenes social media stuff. You know, like a real couple.

Kendrick: I’m shook. I got a text from the producers a few minutes ago, telling me to pack an overnight bag, clear my schedule for the rest of today and tomorrow, and stay tuned for further info. What’s that about?