Page 47 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Which one’s that?” asked Chad.
“The one with the three-legged puppy,” said Daisy.
Chad folded his arms across his chest. “And you think that’s going to make me cry?”
The girls exchanged mischievous grins with each other and both nodded simultaneously.
“‘Valentine’s Puppy Love’ it is,” Daisy said as she clicked on the movie and sat back.
“I’m telling you guys, I’m immune to three-legged puppies,” Chad said, settling back on the couch. “Completely bulletproof.”
Two hours later, as the credits rolled on ‘Valentine’s Puppy Love,’ Chad was definitely not crying over the three-legged puppy finding his forever home with both the wedding planner and her rival-turned-love-interest. He just had some more cookie dust in his eyes. Maybe an entire cookie.
Chapter twelve
Home Runs, Beer Snorts, and Uber Therapy
Game days at The Salty Siren got loud and rowdy. Between the overlapping roar of commentary from a dozen flat-screen TVs hung from the ceiling, the buzz of chatter from lively patrons, and the faint clinking of pint glasses, Daisy felt like she’d been dropped into a chaotic cesspool of beer, testosterone, jerseys, and chicken wings.
“I hate you for letting me agree to this,” Daisy said to Chloe as they stood in the entrance and scanned the crowd for Chad and his friends.
“No, you don’t,” Chloe grinned as she smacked her gum, looking completely at ease in her tank top and jeans. Unlike Daisy, she was in her element, already sizing up the room like a predator selecting its next meal. “You love me. Because this, Chad’s ‘Sports 101 for Complete Newbies’, is exactly what your snoozer of a sports-themed novel needs.”
Three men at a nearby table erupted in shouts at one of the screens. Someone at another table spilled his beer, causing theothers at the table to scoot their stools back, and a harried-looking waitress to rush over with a wad of towels.
“I’m changing it to a quiet country romance,” Daisy said.
“Too late. Now breathe, roomie,” Chloe said, scanning the crowd. “I see them.”
Daisy groaned as they squeezed through the crowd to a back table where Chad and Rhino sat with two other guys right out of a fraternity movie.
“Fields. Chloe. You guys made it,” Chad said, rising from his bar stool and scooting out the one next to him. He turned to his friends. “Guys. This is Daisy and Chloe. Daisy’s helping me with my book.”
“She’s the neurotic chick who organizes her sock drawer?” said one of the boys, wiping his fingers on a napkin before extending his hand.
Daisy shot Chad a glare that could have melted steel. The mental list of ways she could murder him and dispose of the body had just grown exponentially.
“Er, we’re not calling her that anymore,” Rhino quickly cut in. “Trust me. I’ve seen her in action.”
“You must be Rhino,” Chloe said, giving him the once-over, her eyes lingering appreciatively on his arms. “I expected a Viking helmet.”
Rhino grinned, flexing slightly. “You must be the crazy roommate.”
“Good. Chad prepped you already. Chloe Reeves. Professional troublemaker.” Something about the look in Chloe’s eyes made Daisy worry about Rhino’s future safety, though he seemed utterly delighted by the potential danger.
“What kind of trouble?” he asked, leaning slightly closer.
Chloe’s smile was pure mischief. “It escalates with beers.”
His grin broadened. “Awesome. You’re sitting next to me,” he said, scooting out the stool next to him for her to have a seat.
Chloe plopped right down, while Daisy stared tentatively at her stool with the cracked vinyl cover. She could see the stuffing poking out from one side, and what looked suspiciously like a stain pattern of something that had died on it years ago.
“Is it safe to sit on?” Daisy asked, picking at the edge with one finger as if it might bite her.
“I haven’t caught anything yet,” Chad said with a shrug. “But if you feel something move beneath you, you might want to move.”
She shot him a horrified look, already calculating the distance to the exit.
