Page 21 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Or they just know they’ll suck. But hey, every game has a winner and a loser, right?”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“You guys should do a game of one-on-one basketball,” Chloe chimed in. “My money’s on the sweaty P.E. coach.”
Daisy grimaced. “Don’t you have to be at work, Chloe?”
“And miss the testosterone fireworks?” Chloe said, popping another chip into her mouth. “Not a chance.”
Ethan snorted. “I suppose, to each their own.” He turned to Daisy. “We should be on our way if we’re going to catch drinks before dinner.”
“I’m gonna need several,” Daisy said as she followed him to the door.
Ethan gave Chad one last dismissive glance before opening the door for Daisy.
“Don’t forget. Writing session’s at my place tomorrow night,” Chad called out from the couch. “Bring snacks.”
“His place?” Ethan said to Daisy.
“Long story,” Daisy said as she hurried out the door.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Chloe chuckled and spun to Chad, who just became her new favorite partner in crime. “Okay. That was awesome. Watching you ruffle his feathers was worth all the crap I’m going to hear tomorrow about how you desecrated her Post-It wall of horrors.”
“You’re not an Ethan fan?”
Chloe snorted. “I’d rather eat paint. Speaking of which, I’d better get to class before the kids paint my windows. But you’re a trip to have around, Chad. I hope Daisy doesn’t kill you too soon.”
“Me too.”
Chapter five
Abandon All Hope
Daisy stood outside Chad’s apartment door, double-checking the address on her phone for the third time. She’d already driven past the building twice, convinced there must be some mistake. The structure, a shabby wood-paneled bungalow that was redeemed solely by its proximity to the beach, looked more like a vacation rental that had seen better days than a place where actual adults lived year round.
The building sat two blocks from Venice Beach, close enough that she could hear the distant crash of waves and smell the salt air. A skateboard leaned against the wall, next to a doormat that read ‘Come Back With Tacos.’ Someone had added “Or Beer” in marker. Daisy took a deep breath, straightened her perfectly pressed blouse, and knocked.
“It’s open!” Chad’s voice called from inside.
Of course it is, she thought. This was Chad. She pushed the door open and stepped into a scene right out of ‘Animal House.’ The apartment was larger than she’d expected, with beachtowels hung as makeshift curtains over the living room windows. A surfboard leaned against one wall, with a small puddle and sand on the hardwood floor beneath it. The coffee table appeared to be an old door balanced on milk crates, covered in water rings from beer bottles and what might have been the remains of last night’s nachos.
A stack of empty pizza boxes stood in a corner like some sort of modern art exhibit, and a collection of sports trophies shared shelf space with what appeared to be every horror movie ever made on DVD. A dartboard hung on one wall, with several holes in the surrounding drywall where someone had missed.
Chad sat on a ratty couch that had probably been nice when Lincoln was president, laptop balanced on his knees, wearing board shorts and a faded t-shirt. His bare feet were propped on the makeshift coffee table, and a half-empty beer sat dangerously close to his laptop, forming yet another water ring on the table.
“Welcome to Club Med, Venice Beach,” he said, gesturing around. Based on his easy smile, he was either oblivious to or completely unbothered by the state of his living space. “Sorry about the mess. We were going to clean, but then we didn’t. Actually, we’ve been saying that for a couple years.”
“We?” Daisy asked, still hovering near the door in case she needed to make a speedy escape.
“My roommate Rhino and me. Don’t worry, he’s at the gym he manages, so he won’t be home till late. He’s actually worse than me, if you can believe it.”
“Your roommate’s name is Rhino?” Daisy remained by the door, unwilling to venture further into the chaos without proper hazmat gear.
“Well, his real name’s Ryan, but nobody’s called him that since college. Something about him running through a wall during a party we had at the fraternity.” He cleared a stack of sportsmagazines off the other end of the couch. “Grab a seat, Fields. The couch won’t bite. But there might be some Cheetos stuck beneath the cushions. Plus, my phone charger I keep losing.”
Daisy perched carefully on the edge of the couch, clutching her laptop bag like a shield. She pulled out a disinfecting wipe from her purse and quickly swiped down her small section of the couch, ignoring Chad’s amused expression.
“You know, most people just say hello when they visit someone’s home for the first time,” he said, clearly entertained at her sanitizing routine.
