This Will Hurt (This Will Hurt #1) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: This Will Hurt Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
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What in the name of sex toys. Holy fuck. I slammed the drawer shut and hurried out of the room, making sure to close the door this time.

“Dada, bam-ka-bammm!”

Jesus Christ, that’d been a dildo.

So Roe was into that.

Chapter 4

2013

“That’s good. It was the only missing piece, wasn’t it?” I trapped my phone against my shoulder and grabbed the pizza box from the back seat.

“Yeah, we should move on to the next step in a week or two,” Seth replied. “Ortiz wants to schedule a roundtable discussion as soon as possible.”

“Perfect. You know our schedules, so no need to double-check with us beforehand.” I shut the door after snatching up the bags from CVS and Ralph’s too, and then I left the driveway. “I gotta say, even though we didn’t think this project would be green-lit so fast, I’m hopin’ we can go into preproduction ASAP.”

“That’s the impression I’m getting from the other companies as well. This could be huge.”

Even better. I was excited.

Seth and I wrapped up our conversation, and I pocketed my phone before I stepped into the house with my good news. Roe needed some. Poor guy had been sick as a dog all week. But sure, it had turned our mornings into comedy gold on YouTube. With Roe curled up in his chair, duvet wrapped around him, stuffy nose, and a big teacup that read “I woke up like this,” our podcast had received a boost because people were weird. Same thing had happened the time I’d had food poisoning and had to dart into the bathroom in the middle of the broadcast.

Sometimes, we missed the days before we filmed the podcast, but at this point, we’d become so used to “showing everything.” There was no makeup, no script, no nothing. We just shared an unfiltered hour of our morning with the world, and a crazy number of people enjoyed that.

In the kitchen, I ate a slice of pizza as I rummaged through the bags. More painkillers, more tea, more ice cream, more soup, more cough drops, more ginger ale. It was gonna be a wild weekend at our house.

“Jaaake!” Roe croaked from down the hall. “Is that you?”

“No, it’s Santa Claus, buddy!” I gathered some stuff on a tray and heated water in the microwave. Tea, a slice of pizza—his request—and the painkillers that put you to sleep. I fetched the last can of ginger ale from the fridge, too, and restocked with the new ones.

My phone buzzed with a message from my sister.

Uploaded more Nomads bloopers to your YouTube. Fans are in love. ;)

I huffed a chuckle around a mouthful of pizza.

Not everyone was in love. Roe and I were getting our first taste of the downside of fame, and some people were just assholes. That type of shit had never fazed me much, but Roe could get heated. Which was why we had surrendered control of our YouTube to Haley. Roe and I had no business reading the comments anymore.

Once everything was ready, I carried the tray to Roe’s room, where I found him buried under two duvets.

The floor was littered with tissues, and the curtains were drawn to block the sunlight.

A little bit of sun wouldn’t actually kill him. Or some fresh air. Maybe I could get him to eat on the patio tonight.

“How’s the patient?” I shifted some shit off to the side of his nightstand so I could set the tray there.

“Dead,” he coughed. “Feel sorry for me.”

“What’s the point if you’re already dead? I gotta go out and find a new friend.”

He groaned somewhere under the mountain of duvets and pillows. “I will fuckin’ haunt you if you replace me that fast.”

I smiled and flicked on the light, then sat down on the edge of the bed. “You can rest easy. If you die, I’ll get a dog.”

He pushed away the thick layers and emerged with an impressive bed head, and he squinted at me.

I grinned. He had his adorable moments, this guy. I could admit that.

Upon seeing the tray on the nightstand, he forced himself up and pushed a pillow between himself and the headboard. He was dead set on trying pizza, supposedly sick of soup and ramen. We’d see if his throat could handle the pepperoni and peppers.

He started with tea, though, and he took his temperature again. In the meantime, I gave him the good news. We’d found our illustrators and graphic designers and animators for our Travel Back project, and we were good to go. Ortiz would set up a meeting soon.

Roe was pleased. This idea was sort of his baby, and I’d developed it a bit.

No fever either, so that was a relief.

“Can I get you anythin’ else?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He coughed into his fist and reached for his pizza. “Keep me company. We’ll put on a movie or something.”



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