Page 13 of Guys Can’t Write Romance

Chapter nine

Boring Boyfriends and Bikinis

“Okay, this cease-fire between you guys is seriously freaking me out,” Chloe said from the couch in the girls’ apartment.

She had draped herself casually across it, legs kicked over the armrest, as she read the pages from Chad and Daisy’s manuscripts.

“Can’t you guys at least pretend to bicker for background ambiance? ”

Chad and Daisy sat on the floor, their drafts spread out between them in uneven piles that almost made Daisy break out in hives.

She’d been fighting the urge to color-code and straighten the pages for the past twenty minutes, her fingers occasionally twitching toward the mess before she caught herself.

“It’s only till after the contest,” Daisy assured her roommate. “Then your regularly scheduled nights of Daisy-Chad bickering will resume.”

“It better,” Chloe said, flipping to the next page. “‘Cause there’s nothing good on Netflix anymore.”

While they waited for Chloe to finish, Chad rose from the floor and walked over to the freshly organized wall of Post-it notes.

Daisy had set up an elaborate plotting board that morning, complete with character arcs, plot points, and emotional beats.

Chad noticed that this time she had layered them in packing tape to basically ‘Chad-proof’ them.

“Packing tape?” Chad said, running his finger over the laminated surface.

“Shhh,” Daisy said, holding her finger to her lips. “Now, sit,” she added, using the tone she would use to scold a disobedient puppy. Something Chad was about one dog biscuit away from being.

He did, with an amused grin.

“Are you guys seriously going to make me referee?” Chloe asked, lowering Chad’s pages just enough to fix them both with a stern look. “Either commit to the cease-fire or commit to the bickering. This halfway stuff is throwing off my reading rhythm.”

“Sorry,” they both said simultaneously.

Chad somehow managed to remain quiet for the next twenty minutes, though Daisy could practically feel his restless energy radiating across the short distance between them.

He fidgeted with a pen, spinning it between his fingers, occasionally drumming it against his knee until Daisy reached over and confiscated it without a word.

Instead of protesting, he simply switched to tapping his foot, which she pointedly ignored.

The silence in the apartment was interrupted only by the occasional sound of Chloe turning a page or making a small “hmm” noise that sent both writers into spirals of anxiety, wondering if it was a good “hmm” or a bad “hmm.”

After what felt like an eternity to Chad (and probably wasn’t more than forty minutes), Chloe finally finished reading the last page. She set both manuscripts down on her lap, clicked her tongue thoughtfully, and tapped on Daisy’s draft with her bright blue fingernail.

“I know what the problem is,” she announced.

Daisy sat up straighter, unconsciously smoothing her already-pristine shirt. “What is it?”

“You made boring boyfriend your male lead.”

“What?” Daisy’s voice was almost comically high-pitched with indignation. “No, I didn’t.”

“Oh, yes you did,” Chloe said breezily, holding up the pages as if they were Exhibit A in a courtroom drama. “This guy? Rick, Captain Human Wallpaper? He’s basically Ethan with abs. And it’s a sports-themed romance, Daze. Does Boring Banker even know what sports are?”

“Nope,” Chad interjected with a smirk. “Last I checked, Excel spreadsheets aren’t an Olympic event.”

Daisy smacked him with one of the throw pillows they’d arranged on the floor, then turned back to Chloe. “I did not base him on Ethan. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Really? Because I could swear I heard him saying, ‘Oh, don’t worry about spark or chemistry, it’s all about proper budgeting!

’” Chloe mimicked in a monotone voice. “At least give the guy a toothache or athlete’s foot, or something.

You know, a personality flaw that isn’t ‘too punctual’ or ‘overly concerned with retirement planning.’” Chad snickered, earning him another glare from Daisy.

The pillow remained firmly in her grasp, a silent threat of further cushioned assault if he pushed his luck.

“Rick is a successful baseball player,” Daisy defended, though her voice lacked conviction. “He’s driven and focused and—”

“Boring,” Chloe finished for her. “I’m not saying he’s a bad person, Daze. I’m saying he’s a bad character. There’s a difference. You’ve written a very nice guy, with all the sex appeal of unbuttered toast.”

“I’ll have you know that plenty of women find stability and reliability very sexy,” Daisy countered, though her cheeks had flushed slightly pink.

“Sure, in their retirement portfolios,” Chloe agreed. “Not in their romantic leads. This isn’t ‘50 Shades of Beige,’ honey.”

Chad was openly grinning now, clearly enjoying watching someone else critique Daisy for a change. But before he could bask in the moment too long, Chloe turned her attention to his manuscript.

“And you, Chaos Boy,” she said, fixing him with an equally searing gaze while holding the printed pages of his rom-com disaster like she’d pulled them from a septic tank. “What, exactly, are you writing?”

Chad’s grin faded. “A rom-com,” he said defensively, sitting up straighter. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s right with it?” Chloe countered, fanning the pages as if they might emit toxic fumes. “You basically wrote a horror movie where a girl kisses something. And I do mean thing.”

“That’s romantic,” Chad protested, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

“Sure, if you’re dating Godzilla.” Chloe quickly skimmed through his pages, her expression growing increasingly alarmed. “Quick question: does your female lead own any actual clothes, or just bikinis? Because I’ve counted six ‘barely-there’ outfits in three chapters.”

“It’s ambience,” Chad said.

“It’s smut,” Daisy cut in.

“At least it doesn’t put people to sleep,” Chad shot back.

“And they’re back!” Chloe clapped her hands while her face broke into a broad grin. “I was starting to worry. You two not bickering is like a Hallmark movie without snow. Fundamentally wrong on a cosmic level.”

Chad and Daisy both stopped mid-bicker, suddenly aware they’d fallen back into their familiar pattern despite their cease-fire agreement.

Their eyes met across the messy piles of manuscript pages, and something passed between them, a shared recognition that perhaps their usual dynamic wasn’t entirely negative. At least it was honest.

Then Daisy let out a small laugh, breaking the tension. “Told you she can be blunt.”

Chad laughed too, the sound surprisingly genuine. “Yup. Make that brutally blunt.”

“Truce extension?” Daisy said, extending her hand.

“Let’s do it,” Chad agreed, giving her hand a friendly shake.

“No. No, no, no,” Chloe protested from the couch, sitting up properly now and looking genuinely distressed. “Go back to the bickering. It’s more fun. This weird, polite, hand-shaking thing is giving me hives.”

“Too late,” Daisy said, shooting her a grin. “So, what do you suggest?”

“You guys get rid of this stupid cease-fire,” Chloe said immediately. “Your weird, hostile chemistry is clearly the only thing keeping either of you from producing complete literary disasters.”

“What else?” Daisy pressed, ignoring the ‘chemistry’ comment, though a slight pinkness had returned to her cheeks.

Chloe groaned, flopping back against the cushions dramatically.

“Page one rewrites for both of you. Daze, stop putting readers to sleep. Your heroine is great. Quirky female reporter with secret romance novel aspirations, love it! But her love interest has all the personality of drywall. Make him messy. Give him flaws. Let him be a ballplayer who has a gambling problem or something.”

“I’m not giving my hero a gambling problem,” Daisy objected, though she was already jotting down notes.

“Fine, then give him something else,” Chloe conceded. “Just make him human, not a walking investment portfolio with abs.”

She turned to Chad next. “And you, Chaos Boy, write romantic comedy, not teen sexploitation horror. Your female lead needs more personality than ‘hot chick.’ Why is she trying to help this slimy thing? And for the love of all things literary, put some clothes on her. Preferably something that doesn’t require the adjectives ‘barely-there’ or ‘scantily clad.’”

She tossed both manuscripts onto the coffee table with a flourish. “You’re both welcome.”

Chad and Daisy shared a look, not their usual hostile glaring, but something more contemplative, almost collaborative.

“You up for the challenge?” Daisy asked, surprising herself with the genuine question rather than a sarcastic jab.

Chad considered for a moment, then nodded, his usual cocky grin softening into something more authentic. “You help me with all the gooey romance stuff, and I help you keep your readers awake?”

“Not exactly how I would put it, but yeah,” Daisy agreed, finding herself actually looking forward to the prospect of working with Chad rather than against him. It was a novel feeling, and not entirely unpleasant.

“I’m in. On one condition,” Chad said, a familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

“What’s that?” Daisy asked warily.

“We kick things off tomorrow at my office.”

Daisy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You want to write in a school gym?”

Chad shook his head, his smile widening. “Not that office. My other office. And bring lots of sunscreen.”