Falling Into Love with You (The Hate-Love Duet #2) - Lauren Rowe Page 0,25

was the ‘bad’ thing that happened to her.”

Laila’s features contort with sympathy. “Oh.”

“Or, at the very least,” I add, “I was the ‘highly inconvenient’ thing that made all subsequent bad things unavoidable. You know my band’s song ‘Sorry for the Inconvenience’?”

She nods.

“That song is a big ‘fuck you’ to both my parents.”

Laila puts down her spoon. “You mentioned your ‘asshole father’ when we drank that bottle of whiskey in Providence. But I didn’t realize you have an asshole mother, too.”

“She’s not an asshole. At least, she tried to raise me for a while, unlike him. She’s just not a person who ever should have had a kid.”

“I can’t imagine. My mom is so grateful to have my sister and me. And now, my niece. She always says we’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”

“That’s what Mimi always says about me.”

“Were your parents in a relationship?”

“No. It was a one-night stand. My father knocked up the bartender—my mother—at his favorite bar. Once my mom realized she was pregnant, she tracked my father down, but he denied I was his.”

“No paternity test?”

I shrug. “I’ve never asked her about it. My hunch is she wasn’t sure who the father was. By the time I was a toddler, though, it was a moot point. I looked just like him. She said she brought me to him when I was two or three and demanded he take me for a while, so she could have some fun again.”

“She told you that?”

“My mother hasn’t been shy about her lack of attachment to me. Anyway, she brought me to him, but he didn’t want me, either. So, she did her best.”

Laila is visibly floored. “I’m so sorry, Savage. Growing up, did you see your father, at all?”

“I saw him, now and again. Whenever he’d started feeling guilty about ignoring my existence. He’d come over, but only when he was drunk. Usually on my birthday or Christmas and we’d try to play happy family for a hot minute. But things always turned into a screaming match between my parents, and I’d run and hide in my closet. Which by the way, doubled as my bedroom, by choice. I’ve always liked small spaces. Anyway, fast-forward to Chicago, after I’d moved there and had been living with Mimi for a couple years—”

“Where did you live with your mom?”

“Phoenix.”

Laila’s eyebrows ride up.

“Yeah, you hate-fucked me in my hometown,” I say. I wink. “It definitely made it extra special for me. Anyway, my sperm donor father got out of prison when I was fifteen or so. He showed up at Mimi’s apartment, angry that she’d taken me in, when he wasn’t sure I was his kid. He told her I was conning her. Planning to steal from her. So, I flattened his stupid ass.” I smile. “I was fifteen and my father was three inches taller than me—and I took his ass down.”

“Whoa.”

“It felt amazing when I was standing over him. That was the moment I realized how small he truly was—and that he had zero power over me. It was a huge turning point for Mimi and me. Until then, I’d been a little asshole to her. Always testing her. Trying to prove my theory she was going to throw me out at some point. But after that, I realized I loved her and that I’d do anything for her. Anything. And that’s when I said to myself, ‘Why not give her a real chance here? Why not stop being an asshole and start listening to her?’ So, that’s what I did. I started following her rules, and giving her the respect she deserved. And it was the best thing I’ve ever done. From that point, everything started falling into place for me. I befriended Kendrick and Kai, seeing as how I was going to be sticking around, and that’s when I realized I could write songs and sing. Everything came together for me after that.”

“I’m so glad you decided to let Mimi love you.”

“I can’t imagine who I’d be right now if I hadn’t.”

“Is it Sasha’s mom or dad who’s Mimi’s kid?”

“Her father, Frank. He died in an accident at work when Sasha was eleven. Apparently, he was an amazing guy. Really sweet and kind. Thanks to Frank, Mimi knew she was capable of having a normal, loving son. Poor Mimi always blamed herself for my father, her second son, being such a dickbag. But at least Frank gave her some comfort that my father’s assholery wasn’t her