Page 43 of Guys Can’t Write Romance
Chapter thirty-one
Bulldozers and Gold-Diggers
“Okay, monsters, hit the showers!” Chad called out to his sixth-period class. “And Thompson, those cartwheels were getting better. Just try not to take out any more students tomorrow.”
“Sorry, Coach Mac!”
Chad was gathering up dodge balls, including the one that had somehow ended up in the basketball hoop, when the sharp click of heels echoed through the gym.
He turned to find Ava Anderson in a pristine suit that probably cost more than his monthly salary, looking about as comfortable in a school gym as a penguin in the desert.
“Oh, jeez,” he muttered, tossing another ball into the cart. “Did someone sue over a dodgeball injury? Because I have waivers for that.”
“This isn’t a professional visit.” Her voice could have frozen hell. “This is about Daisy.”
“Ah. I was wondering when this was coming.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Helped a friend through a breakup with movies and junk food?” He wheeled the cart toward the storage room. “I mean, I guess I could have sprung for better ice cream, but it was late and the 7-Eleven was short on supplies.”
“You encouraged her to throw away everything she’s worked for.”
Chad stopped. “I didn’t encourage her to do anything. Daisy’s old enough to make her own decisions.”
“Oh, please. Spare me.” Ava practically spat out the words. “You did everything you could to break them up.”
“By making her laugh and have fun?”
“By distracting her away from what really matters.”
“Oh. You mean her writing.”
Ava scoffed. “I mean her future. She had everything lined up. A perfect life with Ethan. Security, stability. An actual future.”
“Sounds thrilling. Did it come with a white picket fence and a lobotomy?”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Ava snapped. “You think everything’s a joke. Life is just one big fraternity party to you. Meanwhile, Ethan is a successful investment banker who—”
“Who sent her a cruel text about her ‘little writing hobby’ and ‘childish’ dreams the moment she stopped fitting into his perfect plan.” Chad faced her. “Yeah, real catch.”
“At least he could give her a future. What can you offer? A teacher’s salary and a roommate who eats raw eggs?”
“Hey, leave Rhino out of this. And for your information, I happen to be very good at my job.”
“Playing dodgeball with children is hardly a career.”
“Says the ambulance chaser. How many dog bite cases are you working this week?”
“I work for the top corporate law firm in Century City.”
“Defending corporations from the little guy. How noble.” He started toward his office. “Are we done here? Because I have actual work to do.”
“You’re not good enough for her.”
Chad’s step faltered, but he didn’t turn around. “Wasn’t aware I was trying to be.”
“Please. I’ve seen how you look at her. But this little fantasy you’re building? It won’t last. Daisy will come to her senses and realize she needs more than movie nights and bad jokes.”
“You know what your problem is, Anderson? You think happiness comes with a price tag.”
“And you think it comes with a screening of ‘The Breakfast Club’ and some gas station snacks.”
“At least I don’t measure someone’s worth by their bank account.”
“No, you just measure it by how many pranks they can pull or how many beers they can chug.”
“If you’re done insulting my character,” Chad said, “I have lesson plans to write. Unless you’d like to sue me for emotional distress? I hear that’s very popular these days.”
“This isn’t over, McKenzie.”
“Actually, it is. But hey, if you’re ever in need of a good dodgeball workout to release some of that Type A tension, my class meets at one.”
Ava’s heels clicked away with military precision, leaving Chad alone in his office. He slumped into his chair, her words echoing in his head.
You’re not good enough for her.
The worst part wasn’t that Ava had said it.
The worst part was that he was starting to think she might be right.
The back room of The Book Nook Café hummed with its usual mixture of clinking coffee cups, rustling papers, and the occasional sharp wit courtesy of Mags.
Daisy, freshly caffeinated and armed with a neatly clipped stack of notes, felt more relaxed than she had in weeks.
The breakup with Ethan should have weighed more heavily, but the truth was, the writing group, and especially a certain PE coach, had been an unexpected comfort lately. Her face brightened as he walked in.
“Hey,” she said, patting the seat beside her. “Saved you a seat.”
“Thanks,” he said, sliding into the seat and unpacking his notebook from his backpack.
“Did you get my text?” she asked.
There was a moment’s hesitation before he responded. “Yeah. Sorry. I was gonna text back, then I got kinda sidetracked with work.”
“Isn’t your work philosophy don’t do today what you can put off indefinitely?” she teased, trying to draw out some of his playfulness.
He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Indefinitely came sooner than it was supposed to.”
She shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I just wanted to say thanks for coming over last night, even if it means another hour on the treadmill to burn off the calories. It really meant a lot.”
“Good. Glad I could help,” he said, his eyes finally meeting hers for the first time since coming in. He quickly looked away.
“Alright, everyone,” Mags said, clapping her hands together as she took her usual seat at the head of the table. “We have exactly one week until the Heartstrings Press Contest deadline. I hope you’re ready to crap out brilliance, or at least something mildly amusing.”
“Crap out brilliance?” Phil repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s inspiring.”
“Stare at your blank page longer, Phil,” Mags quipped, winking. “Maybe genius will land on it like a seagull with bad aim.”
The group chuckled, and Daisy turned to Chad to share in the laughter, giving him a light nudge with her elbow. “Are you ready to ‘crap out brilliance,’ partner?” she teased.
Normally, Chad would have met her playful jab with something sarcastic or cheeky, a quip about how his ‘brilliance’ involved a subplot about radioactive werewolves or something equally ridiculous. But this time, his response was somehow off.
“Uh, yeah,” he said with a nervous laugh, shifting in his seat and pretending to focus on his own stack of poorly stapled notes. “Hopefully more brilliance, and less crap.”
Daisy frowned slightly, her elbow still hovering where it had nudged him. “Okay,” she said teasingly, tilting her head. “Who are you, and what have you done with Chad McKenzie? Because he definitely doesn’t shy away from a writing jab.”
Chad chuckled under his breath but said nothing, busying himself by doodling in the margin of his notebook, lines that definitely weren’t actual notes.
The group conversation flowed around them, but Daisy absently kept glancing Chad’s way. He wasn’t outright cold, but something about his energy felt different. Guarded.
“Wow, you two really must be collaborating like crazy these days,” Bernie said, interrupting her thoughts as he sipped his tea. He gestured between Daisy and Chad with a knowing look. “Haven’t heard you bicker once. It’s like watching a buddy cop movie with no banter.”
Daisy smiled faintly, nudging Chad again in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Be careful what you wish for, Bernie. You know how we are once we get started.”
But Chad only laughed nervously again, still shifting in his seat like the chair had suddenly sprouted thorns.
Mags clapped her hands again. “Daisy,” she said, bringing the group back to order. “Why don’t we begin by sharing your pages.”
Daisy passed around her latest chapters.
As the group read silently, she found herself sneaking glances at Chad.
His brow was furrowed in concentration as he read, but there was something else there too, a heaviness that seemed out of character.
She couldn’t help but remember how relaxed and open he’d been during their surfing lesson, and how cute and comforting he’d been last night when he gave her the rubber ducky. This Chad felt somehow walled off.
After everyone finished reading, Helen was the first to speak. “Daisy, dear, this is a remarkable transformation. Rick has actually become interesting! Color me surprised.”
“Thanks. I think?” Daisy said at the backhanded compliment.
“I was just going to say that,” Bernie chimed in. “He’s still successful and reliable, but now I actually care about why he’s doing what he’s doing. The scene where his dad gives him his World Series ring is quite moving.”
“And he has hobbies now,” Liv added enthusiastically. “Surfing and coaching little league. I found it quite charming how he interacts with the children on his team.”
“He’s also funny,” Ruth pointed out.
Daisy beamed at the feedback, her gaze automatically seeking Chad’s. In the past, he’d have been the first to make some quip about being a good influence, or feigning shock that she’d finally written a male character with a pulse.
“It’s really good, Daisy,” he said, his eyes meeting hers briefly before looking away. “I think you nailed it.”
“Thanks,” Daisy said, her heart warming at the praise, but she couldn’t understand why he kept breaking eye contact. “I took your advice about showing his vulnerabilities.”
“Well, it worked,” Phil said. “He’s someone I’d actually want to have a beer with now. High praise indeed.”
Mags nodded in agreement. “You’ve found the perfect balance, Daisy. He’s still the stable, thoughtful man you envisioned, but now with layers that make readers invest in his journey.” She turned to Chad. “Your turn, Chad. Let’s see if you’ve managed to keep the slime monsters at bay.”
Chad handed out his pages with none of his usual dramatic flourish.
“No coffee stains,” Daisy said, flipping the pages over to examine both sides. “I’m impressed.”
“I think Bernie’s got the copy I used for a coaster,” he said with a trace of his old humor.