Page 124 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Good contact, Martinez,” Chad called out, without any of his characteristic enthusiasm. And the kids were beginning to notice.
“You okay, coach?” asked one of the boys, Jenkins.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You seem kind of out of it.”
Jenkins wasn’t wrong. Ever since the visit from Ava, Chad’s mind had been on an endless loop, replaying her cutting words and Daisy’s confused expression at their writers’ group meeting. Although he’d traded several texts with Daisy since then, none had the playfulness of his past texts. It wasn’t deliberate, and he cringed every time he went back and reread them, but he didn’t know how to turn off this defensive instinct he didn’t even know he had until now. Ashley’s abrupt exit had definitely done a real number on him.
“Hey, coach,” Kowalski called over from the pitcher’s mound, staring at something in the distance. “I think you’re about to be in trouble. Your girlfriend looks pissed.”
Chad followed his gaze over to where a girl with bright pink hair and a paint-splattered apron was storming his way across the field.
Chloe.
“Coach Dumpster Fire!” Chloe hollered, her voice carrying across the field. “A word.”
He was so busted.
“Do you know her, Coach?” asked one of the boys.
“Yeah,” Chad muttered. “Everyone, take five.”
“Can we watch?” asked Kowalski.
“Only if you want to run laps the rest of the afternoon,” Chad said. He jogged over to the approaching storm that was Chloe Reeves, hoping to keep whatever was coming out of earshot of the team. The fierce expression on her face let him know she was in no mood for games.
“Hey, Chlo,” he said, trying to sound casual as he jogged up. “What’s up?”
“You,” she interrupted, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You’re what’s up! I should be at work right now, but no, I’m having to do a ‘come-to-Jesus’ with a twenty-nine-year-old with the emotional maturity of a two-year-old.”
Chad winced, glancing over his shoulder to where his team was pretending not to watch, while obviously straining to hear every word. “Can we do this somewhere a little more private?”
“No,” Chloe said firmly. “Because I’ve been watching my roommate mope around our apartment, checking her phone like a teenager waiting for a crush to text back, and I’m tired of it.”
“She’s been doing that?” Chad said, suddenly feeling about two feet tall.
“Yes, she’s been doing that!” Chloe spat back. “She likes you, dingus. So, I need to know, do you, or do you not, actually like her? Like, emotionally? Or is this just ‘haha, writing group shenanigans’ forever?”
Chad was so stunned it took him a beat too long to respond. When he finally did, he fell back into his tried-and-true deflection strategy. “Is there an option for ‘it’s complicated’?”
“Oh, shut up,” Chloe snapped, crossing her arms fiercely. “You know what’s worse than dating Boring Banker? It’s falling for a guy who’s too chicken to admit he’s all in.”
Chad stiffened as the words hit like a punch in the gut.
“You’re not fooling anyone, Chad,” Chloe continued, her voice unrelenting but not unkind. “You’re just scared.”
That loosened something in him. For the briefest moment, his mask slipped.
“I am,” Chad admitted quietly, surprising himself at how good that felt to finally get off his chest. “I’m in uncharted waters here, Reeves, and I don’t know what I’m doing.” He took a breath, his tone softening into something raw as he added, “Daisy’s not like other girls I meet.”
Chloe stepped back, equally surprised at his honesty. She tilted her head as she studied him with newfound curiosity. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I know.”
“She’s not just...” Chad rubbed the back of his neck. His words faltered for a moment as he glanced out toward the dugout where the team was watching. His voice dropped further until it was barely audible. “She matters to me. A lot. And I can’t screw this up.”
“News flash, coach. You’re already screwing this up.”
Chad took a slow breath and nodded, kicking at a loose patch of grass. “I know.”
