A Cruel Kind of Beautiful (Sex, Love, and Rock & Roll Series Book 1) by Michelle Hazen

Author:Michelle Hazen [Hazen, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: female rockstar romance, beautiful messy love, rockers forever, rock n roll romance, new adult rock star romance, messy beautiful friendship, rockstar romance 2017, independent woman, female sexual dysfunction, strong woman, new rockstar romance 2017, feminist romance, rock chick, new adult romance 2017, Beta Hero, college rockstar romance, nice guy romance, drummer girl, new adult rockstar romance
Publisher: Michelle Hazen
Published: 2017-12-03T18:30:00+00:00

AS IT TURNS OUT, JACOB is an amazing cook when it comes to delicious, savory-sweet pasta sauce, but falls way short when it comes to how to deal with the pasta underneath.

After the second pot of ruined noodles, my growling stomach and I tried to teach him the throw-the-pasta-at-the-ceiling trick to help decide when it was done cooking. But then we ended up boiling the third pot into oblivion because Jacob insisted that getting it to stick or fall down was all in the throwing style, which led to forty minutes of comparing wrist action and noodle length and extensive theory testing.

His little brother, Ben, came home halfway through our clinical trials when the ceiling was raining spaghetti back down at totally unpredictable intervals and the floor looked like the final exam for a Hazmat cleanup class. I had an excuse all queued up, but then Ben gave me a very teenagery raised eyebrow, which of course led to me throwing a piece of spaghetti—with unimpeachable wrist action—right in his face.

Apparently pitching genes must run in the family, because that kid was hell on wheels in a spaghetti throwing contest, though after all Jacob’s hints about “family issues” I half-expected Ben to pull a knife. He seemed like an okay kid, though, his worst trait a blond flop of emo bangs that I had a hard time taking seriously. He retreated to his room instead of eating dinner with us, which is probably for the best since we were headed for WWIII-levels of edible warfare.

In the end, Jacob and I had to cannibalize a couple of boxes of mac and cheese to get enough pasta for our spaghetti, but at least we didn’t go hungry.

After that, we started watching Napoleon Dynamite, but it took us forever to get through the first half because we had to pause it for Jacob to tease me every time the grandma’s house in the movie had similar ‘70s decorating elements to my house. Then we started debating the soundtrack choices, which led to a long spree of contentious YouTube music videos. Plus, he had to replay the scene where Uncle Rico hits Napoleon in the face with a steak so he could explain why it was a terrible throw and a purely lucky hit.

Now I’m falling through a blistering hot sky and I’m sick with the knowledge that I won’t survive the impact at the end.

I jerk awake, my knee coming up and whacking the front of the couch, my hip aching where I hit the floor.

“Jera?”

I puff a few strands of hair out of my face and blink. The only light comes from the menu screen on the TV. The air is still tinged with the damp flour scent of pasta, and Jacob’s head pops over the edge of the couch to look down at me. Sitting up, I wince at the stiffness in my back. “Crap, did I fall asleep?”

“You fell off the couch.” When he sits up it jogs my groggy brain to wonder exactly what position we were lying in before I rolled off the edge.

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