Page 31 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Chad said, tripping over his words. “This isn’t what you think.”
“Really? Is this also not what I think?” she growled, pointing at the cardigan. “Or those,” she added, pointing at the yoga pants.
“If you just give me a second, I can explain—“
Before he could finish the sentence, he ducked as his autographed baseball whizzed over his head, thrown by a very pissed-off blond volleyball player.
“Pete Rose signed that,” Chad said.
“Then he can have your cleats too,” Vicky said, snagging a baseball cleat off the floor.
“Oh, crap!” Chad said, bolting from the room just as the cleat nailed the wall behind him.
Chad burst into the living room. “Dude, run!”
“What?” Rhino said, rising from the couch just as a baseball bat sailed from Chad’s bedroom and nailed the far wall. “Wait for me!”
The roommates bolted across the room and out the kitchen door.
Minutes later...
Chad crawled to the edge of the roof and peered down. Far below, Vicky paced the area near the front door like a caged tiger searching for its prey. Chad quietly scooted back to where Rhino lay prone on the roof beside him.
“She still there?” Rhino whispered.
Chad nodded.
“I know you’re around here, McKenzie!” came Vicky’s shout from below. “So, you and your chicken roommate might as well come out now.”
Chad looked at Rhino. “You had to let Daisy in?” he whispered.
“Bro, you stood her up for your writing session. Have you seen her when she’s pissed? She’s scary.”
“I can wait here all night if I have to,” Vicky’s shout came again.
“No, dude,” Chad said. “That’s scary.”
Chapter eight
Pink Hats and Cease-Fires
Daisy hadn’t been able to wipe the grin off her face all morning. Despite the ongoing humiliation of the flyer having gone viral, with texts and emails coming from people she hadn’t seen in years, her payback on Chad the previous night had gone great; and with that out of her system, she was ready to just call things even and get back to work on their books.
Chad had texted her several times overnight, each text sounding increasingly desperate. Something about needing her to bring a ladder to his apartment. She just laughed and deleted them. He could explain what they meant at their next writing session. She was confident he wouldn’t miss any more.
Inside her classroom, things were going surprisingly well, too. She’d only had to remove gum from one girl’s hair, which meant it was a good day. As the late morning sun shone through the window, gleaming off swings and slides and other playground equipment outside, she sat down at her desk and prepared for the next lesson.
“Miss Fields,” little Cindy called from the back of the classroom. “There’s a man outside in a pink hat.”
Daisy looked over at the window, and her jaw nearly dropped. Chad stood outside it, wearing her pink bra on his head like a cap, and her cardigan draped over his shoulder like a cape.
Daisy rushed over to the window. “Give me those!” she hollered through the glass, but Chad pretended not to hear and stuck out his tongue at her.
Daisy fumed.
“What’s the man doing?” Cindy asked.
“That’s not a man,” Daisy growled. “It’s a demon from hell.”
