Page 64 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Well,” Daisy said quickly, fishing for her keys. “Thanks for letting me watch practice, coach.”
“Anytime, Fields.” He stepped back, hands in his pockets. “See you at the writers’ group meeting?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“I expect to see lots of good stuff, and zero nap time.”
She smiled. “And I expect to see zero monsters and scantily clad females.”
“Already done. I had a good teacher.”
The warmth was suddenly back in her chest. “So did I.”
Daisy knew she was in trouble the minute she walked in the door and saw Chloe waiting not-so-patiently on the couch, like a parent waiting for their kid to get home from prom. Chloe popped a chip in her mouth, her default dinner when left unsupervised.
“Sooo…” Chloe said, letting the word draw out, “how did baseball for clueless roommates go?”
Daisy tried her hardest to fight the grin tugging at her face and failed miserably. “It went fine.”
“Okay, cut.” Chloe said. “This time, we need the ‘fine’ to match the grin on your face.”
“What grin?” Again, Daisy failed miserably at hiding it.
“The one that says you just spent the afternoon watching Hot Coach be adorable with children.”
“You’re imagining things.”
Chloe sat up and popped another chip into her mouth. “I think it’s cute that you think you’re fooling anyone. Now, spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill. Now, I need to work on my novel.”
“Ooh, like making changes to Rick? Please, please, please, say yes.”
“Yes. I’m making changes to Rick.”
“So he’ll be less like boring boyfriend?”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “I’m adding more depth to his character. And no, that’s not an admission that he was ever like Ethan.”
“Can you make him able to laugh without scheduling it first?”
“Ethan laughs.”
Chloe shot her a look. “I thought we were talking about Rick.”
Daisy groaned. “You’re impossible.”
Chloe grinned. “I know. But will he be more like Chad?”
“We are done talking. Now, I need to get to work.”
“Your face is doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“That smile you get whenever someone mentions his name. Like that, right there.”
Daisy slapped her hand over her mouth. “We are done,” she said, her voice muffled through her hand. “Now, go paint things.”
