Page 83 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Come on, Chloe.”
“No, really, I want to know what qualifies as ‘adult stuff’ in Ethan’s world. Because last time I checked, my credit scorewas excellent, and I still managed to have a dance party in my pajamas last night.”
Daisy couldn’t help but smile. “I saw your TikTok page. Nice moves.”
“Thank you. And notice how I didn’t spontaneously combust from having fun while being an adult.” Chloe did a little shimmy, nearly colliding with a passing hiker. “Oops, sorry! Just proving a point to my friend here about joy not being fatal.”
The hiker gave them both an odd look before continuing up the trail.
“Great,” Daisy muttered. “Now he probably thinks we’re crazy.”
“Better crazy than boring. Speaking of which, what exactly did Ethan substitute for the karaoke?”
Daisy sighed. “We did wine sampling at the Le Petit Jardin. Which isn’t a bad thing! It’s cultured and—”
“If you say sophisticated one more time, I’m pushing you down this hill.”
They reached a clearing, and Daisy stopped to catch her breath, looking out over the Los Angeles skyline. The morning haze was just starting to burn off, revealing the city sprawled out below them. “Maybe Ethan has a point, though. We’re not in college anymore. At some point, we have to grow up, right?”
Chloe snorted. “Okay, who are you trying to convince here? Me or yourself?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Chloe said, plopping down on a nearby rock, “that I’ve watched you spend the last few weeks actually enjoying life. You laughed so hard beer came out of your nose, for crying out loud! And now you’re back to this ‘proper adult’ nonsense?”
“It’s called stability, Chloe. Security. Having a plan.”
“No, it’s called boring yourself to death. There’s a difference between being responsible and being dead inside.” Chloe’s voicesoftened. “When was the last time Ethan made you laugh? Like, really laugh?”
Daisy opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. She thought back to her recent dates with Ethan, trying to remember a moment of pure, unrestrained joy. All she could recall were polite chuckles over wine.
“Now, when was the last time Chad made you laugh?”
“This isn’t about Chad.”
“Everything’s about Chad lately. Even your book’s leading man isn’t boring anymore. Coincidence? I think not.” Chloe waggled her eyebrows. “Remember last week when he tried to teach you baseball terms?”
Despite herself, Daisy smiled at the memory. Chad had spent an hour explaining the difference between a changeup and a curveball, using French fries as props until they were too mangled to eat.
“You’re impossible,” Daisy muttered, but her cheeks flushed pink.
“I’m impossible? You’re the one trying to convince yourself that giving up karaoke is somehow a sign of maturity. News flash: you can pay your mortgage AND belt out ‘Sweet Caroline’ in public. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
A jogger passed them, and Daisy waited until he was out of earshot before responding. “But Ethan provides stability. He’s reliable, he’s—”
“A human sleep aid?” Chloe interrupted. “Look, being an adult doesn’t mean you have to stop doing things that make you spark. If you’re not living a life that makes you want to get out of bed in the morning, what’s the point?”
“When did you get so wise?”
“Probably around my third White Claw last night. I’m very philosophical when I’m tipsy.” Chloe stood up and stretched. “Besides, I’ve seen how you are around Chad. You light up. Anddon’t think I haven’t noticed how your perfect little color-coded planner has gotten a lot messier lately.”
“That’s because he’s constantly disrupting my schedule with his random writing sessions!”
“And yet you keep showing up.” Chloe gave her a pointed look. “Face it, babe. Chad McKenzie is squatting in your subconscious rent-free.”
They continued up the trail, passing a group of tourists taking selfies with the Hollywood sign in the background. Daisy’s mind wandered to the night before, at how she had wanted to ask Ethan one more time if they could go back to the karaoke bar after dinner, but had stopped herself, knowing he’d dismiss it. With Chad, she wouldn’t have hesitated. With Chad, she didn’t feel the need to edit herself.
“You know what the worst part is?” Chloe said, interrupting her thoughts. “You’re not just dimming your own light to fit Ethan’s idea of adulthood. You’re starting to believe that’s all you deserve.”
