Page 76 of Guys Can't Write Romance
The memory flashed suddenly of the framed photo of Chad and his friends singing karaoke with shameless abandon. And having an obvious blast doing it.
“Oh my gosh,” Daisy grabbed Ethan’s arm. “They’re doing karaoke! Can we go in?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on, Ethan. It looks so fun! I haven’t done karaoke since college.”
“Which is exactly the point I’ve been trying to make.”
“So, I have to stop having fun at a certain age, because some adult rulebook says so?”
“I’m not saying to stop having fun, Daisy. I’m just saying to embrace a more mature adult form of fun. And since when is watching a bunch of drunken people massacre classic songs fun?”
“But that’s the whole point of it. To just be silly.” She thought again of that photo in Chad’s apartment, of the uninhibited joy on his face. “Chad has this philosophy that bad karaoke is just beers and enthusiasm winning out over talent. And the worse the singing, the better the memories.”
“You’re taking social cues from someone who throws balls with kids for a living?” His tone dripped with barely concealed disdain.
Something hot flared in Daisy’s chest. Memories of Chad’s baseball practice flooded back; of his patience and camaraderie with the kids, and how they looked at him with genuine respectand affection. “He’s actually really good at it. And the kids love him.”
“How would you know this?”
“He let me sit in on his practice last week for my book.”
“What book?”
She shot him a frown, unable to hide her disappointment. “The romance comedy I’m writing for that contest. The one I’ve told you about, like a thousand times.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. I remember.” His quick recovery didn’t quite mask the fact that he’d genuinely forgotten something that meant so much to her. “So, what does watching him coach have to do with your book?”
“My male lead is a baseball player. I’ve told you that too.” The repetition was exhausting, the constant need to remind him of the details of her life that he should have remembered if he’d been truly listening.
“I must have forgotten.”
“Must have.” She couldn’t keep the edge from her voice.
From inside the bar, the singers grew more enthusiastic, drowning out whatever she was about to say next.
Daisy’s phone buzzed in her purse with an incoming text. For a moment, her heart fluttered with anticipation.
Why was she hoping it was Chad?
She rolled her phone over in her purse to look at the screen, and felt a tinge of disappointment when she saw it was from Chloe. She swiped to read it.
‘Need me to rush some No-Doz over yet?’
Daisy grinned and closed her purse.
“Who was that?” Ethan said.
“Just Chloe being Chloe.”
Ethan checked his watch. “We’d better hurry. We don’t want to be late.”
Daisy let him lead her away, but her mind lingered at O’Donnell’s. Through the window, she’d seen people dancing, laughing, living in a way that had nothing to do with proper planning.
“You know,” Ethan said, noticing her looking back, “this Chad and his cohorts probably frequent establishments like that.”
He’d meant it as a criticism, but Daisy found herself nodding in agreement. “Probably,” she agreed, and was surprised to find herself smiling at the thought.
