Page 37 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“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.
