Page 58 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“And by ‘interesting,’ you mean chaotic. My attorney friend Ava joined us, and one of Chloe’s favorite pastimes is pushing her buttons.”
“My money’s on Chloe in that match.”
“The girl’s in her own league.”
She watched him disappear around the corner, then found herself scanning his living room with new eyes. It was still a disaster by her standards, but somehow it had become a comfortable sort of chaos. The surfboard in the corner had a story behind every ding. The stack of sports magazines mightbe crooked, but they held memories of games watched together. The collection of beach rocks on the windowsill that he’d arranged ‘artistically’ (his word, not hers) had started to look almost charming.
She rose from the couch and wandered over to a bookcase next to the TV, which housed a collection of sports trophies, horror books, and some framed pictures. One picture caught her attention. It showed younger versions of Chad, Rhino, Troy, and Brett on a stage somewhere, arms flailing as they appeared to be singing a lively karaoke song.
“Is this you and your friends singing karaoke in this picture?” she asked.
Chad’s chuckle came from the kitchen. “It was karaoke. Whether you would call it singing is still open to debate.”
Daisy laughed. “Isn’t that the best kind?”
“Always. Funny. I didn’t picture you as the karaoke type.”
“I used to be. Back in college.” A smile lit her cheeks at the memories.
“Maybe we can do it sometime.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Her eyes drifted over to the cabinet under the TV. Something about it seemed too neat, too organized for Chad’s usual style. The doors were actually closed properly, unlike everything else in the apartment. In fact, now that she thought about it, it was probably the only cabinet in his entire place that wasn’t perpetually ajar, contents spilling out in cheerful disarray.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the door.
“Wait! Don’t look in there!” Chad’s panicked voice came too late.
Daisy’s jaw dropped. Row after row of Hallmark movies lined the shelves, organized by what looked like seasonal categories. Little sticky notes marked different sections: ‘Christmas,’ ‘Valentine’s,’ ‘Spring Fling,’ and ‘Summer Romance.’
“Oh. My. Gosh.” She pulled out ‘Christmas Inn-heritance.’ “You didn’t just watch them. You’re collecting them!”
Chad stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, a beer in each hand, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “I can explain.”
“‘Valentine’s Puppy Love’?” She gasped. “The three-legged puppy movie? With your notes in the margins of the DVD case?”
“It was research!” He rushed over, nearly spilling the beers. “And those aren’t notes, they’re plot analysis.”
“‘Cried here’?” She read from one of his scribbles. “‘Really cried here’? ‘Had to pause because couldn’t see through tears’?”
“That was— there was dust— the window was open.”
“They’re organized by season!” She continued exploring the shelf. “With sub-categories for tropes! ‘Enemies to Lovers’? ‘Second Chance Romance’? ‘Small Town Sweet’?”
“That was Rhino,” Chad said quickly. At her raised eyebrow, he withered. “Okay, fine. I did that. But only because it’s more efficient!”
Daisy bit back a laugh. “Did you just say ‘efficient’? You? The guy who thinks clean socks are optional?”
“I’m not gonna live this down, am I?”
“Nope.” She pulled out another DVD. “‘Snow Globe of Second Chances’? Isn’t this the one where—”
“The hockey player learns to love again through the magic of hot chocolate?” Chad sighed, finally remembering to hand her a beer. “Yeah. The ending makes no sense unless that cocoa was seriously spiked.”
“Chad McKenzie.” Daisy stood up, clutching the DVDs to her chest. “You’re a closet romantic.”
“I am not! I just...” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up in that way that definitely didn’t make her stomach flip. “Some of them aren’t terrible, okay? And the character development is actually pretty solid, even if the plotsare predictable, and sometimes the dialogue really hits home, and...” He trailed off when he saw her expression. “What?”
