Falling Into Love with You (The Hate-Love Duet #2) - Lauren Rowe Page 0,10

we’re seated, there’s a photo shoot for a long moment, as Savage and I, along with our two fellow judges, oscillate our smiling faces like sprinklers on a lawn, allowing every camera in the room to get a perfect shot of this season’s judges. Although, based on the number of reporters shouting at Savage and me, specifically, it seems the lion’s share of photos being snapped are of the happy couple.

“Let’s get to your questions!” Sunshine calls out, before pointing at one of the reporters.

The reporter stands. “Savage and Laila, are you really a couple or is this a publicity stunt?”

Well, that was fast.

“We’re a couple,” Savage answers smoothly, sliding his arm around me, and I instinctively rest my cheek on his broad shoulder.

“In fact,” I say, “we’ve recently moved in together.”

The room titters in response to that little nugget.

A reporter shouts, “So, Laila, did you lie about Savage during your interview on Sylvia?”

I lift my head from Savage’s shoulder and grimace at my fake boyfriend.

“Time to ’fess up, babe,” he says, smirking.

Sighing dramatically, I address the room. “Yeah, I lied through my teeth!” Everyone chuckles, along with Savage. “I wanted to keep our relationship under wraps for a bit longer, so we could make sure it was rock solid before we subjected ourselves to worldwide attention.”

Savage nods. “I respected where Laila was coming from on that, even though I was ready to shout about my feelings for Laila from the rooftops. Laila said she didn’t want to feel pressure to ‘perform’ our relationship for the world, and I understood that.”

Clever boy. He just paraphrased something I said to Sylvia about why I don’t like making my relationships “Instagram official.”

Savage continues, “But then, when that Instagrammer made her video, broadcasting to the world everything I’d drunkenly babbled to her in private, I told Laila, ‘There’s no turning back now, babe. Let’s make it official!’ But before we’d decided how or when to do that, the producers called to say they’d decided to promote Laila from mentor to judge this season.” He smiles at me. “And now, here we are.”

“Ah, so this is a publicity stunt,” a reporter yells.

“No, not at all,” Savage insists. “The powers that be at the show determined Laila sitting at the judges’ table would make things especially fun and interesting this season. But that doesn’t make our relationship any less real. All that means is Laila and I will get to spend a whole lot more time together over the next few months.” He looks at me and smiles. “Which is a great thing, as far as we’re concerned. Who wouldn’t leap at the chance to work with the person they’re head over heels in love with?”

Whoa. The man is good.

“How long have you two been together?” that same reporter asks, all prior skepticism gone from his tone.

“It happened little by little during our tour,” Savage explains. “But we’ve been glued at the hip for about the past month.”

“To be clear,” I interject, my finger raised, “I wasn’t lying to Sylvia when I said Savage and I didn’t get along during most of the tour. As a matter of fact, we couldn’t stand each other for a large portion of it.”

“No, you couldn’t stand me,” Savage corrects, making everyone chuckle. “And rightly so. I was like a kid pulling her pigtails on the playground, guys. But after we got back from the tour, I called Laila and charmed her pants off . . . literally.” Everyone guffaws, while I bat Savage’s shoulder playfully. “And then, everything took off from there, on a rocket.” Savage leans forward. “That ‘rocket’ being the one in my pants.”

As the room explodes at Savage’s raunchy comment, Sunshine chokes out, “It’s a family show, Savage.” But by the expression on Nadine Collins’ face at the back of the room, it’s clear our executive producer isn’t upset in the least about Savage’s sexual innuendo. In fact, her expression makes it clear the head honcho is pleased as punch.

“How’d you convince Laila to board your rocket, Savage?” someone shouts.

“Have you seen me?” he says cheekily. And, again, everyone in the room rolls with laughter. Savage waves the air in front of him. “No, no. Actually, it required some good old- fashioned groveling to get things going with Laila. I called her after the tour and apologized for my bad behavior, and, thankfully, things took off from there.” He looks at me. “I’m not the best at apologizing, usually. At least, not first. But, somehow,