He pauses when he notices me, eyes roving over my casual yoga-style pants and plain golf shirt in what feels a lot like silent judgment. It’s probably the same way I assessed him but with less drooling and more disdain. When he reaches my backpack, his lip curls in a loathsome sneer. “Are you a student?” He says it like it’s some kind of horrible disease.

I arch a brow and self-consciously adjust the strap. I could invest in a tote bag or something, but backpacks have better weight distribution and don’t cause shoulder misalignment. “Good morning to you too.” I head for the elevators without so much as a second glance in his direction. What a prick.

I’m grateful when the doors slide open almost immediately. I step inside, hit the lobby button, and fight with myself not to check to see if he’s still standing there. I lose the battle half a second before the doors close fully. He’s scratching the space between his navel and the waistband of his underwear. I roll my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief when the elevator begins its descent.

I wonder what the hell that guy’s problem is. Sure, I made a lot of noise that first night, but I don’t think it warrants his continued disdain. Whatever. It’s not like I have to be friends with him. I don’t even have to acknowledge him.

The bus ride to my new job is blissfully uneventful. The clinic is located at the edge of the university campus. They opened a brand-new center, which required a mass hiring in part because of the new expansion team in Seattle. Put a hockey team in a city, and all of a sudden hundreds of college kids want to go pro and are looking for every possible advantage to get them there.

I could’ve cashed in on my brother’s connections and scored a position at one of the clinics that works directly with the professional teams, but I wanted to get the job on my own merit, not my brother’s name.

I have a master’s in physiotherapy with a specialization in sports rehab, and I graduated at the top of my class. That, along with the glowing recommendation from my professors and my clinic placement, as well as my interview skills, got me the job. And I didn’t need my brother to do it.

So here I am, day one at my new job, praying I don’t run into Joey and end up in tears. The good thing about starting two months after him is that he won’t be part of my orientation. Also, the clinic is massive: there are more than a hundred people on staff, including physiotherapists, massage therapists, acupuncturists, chiropractors, and even a doctor, as well as a team of personal trainers—that’s what Joey was hired for. I’m hopeful the size of the clinic means I won’t run into him often—better yet, not at all—since I’m with the physiotherapy team.

I’m about twenty-five minutes early, so I sign in, pick up an orientation package of paperwork, and take a seat at one of the many empty desks in the seminar room. It’s strange being in a university as something other than a student.

The seats around me fill with nervous bodies as I complete the forms. I’m not necessarily an introvert, but new situations where I don’t know anyone apart from my cheater ex make me nervous.

Two women who look roughly my age take the empty seats next to me. One of the girls is tall and willowy with a pixie cut, and the other one is short with an athletic build, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail. We exchange hellos and names as they settle in. The willowy one is Jules, and the athletic one is Pattie. Apparently they’re cousins.

My phone vibrates on my desk with new messages, but I ignore it. RJ sent me one this morning wishing me luck, as did my mom and my brother Kyle. I slide the device into my bag so it’s not a distraction, but before I do, I catch the new name I’ve given to Joey’s contact: Douche-Hole. His most recent message, sent seconds ago, reads look up.

The last thing I need or want this morning is to see his asshole face. I don’t look up. Instead I flip distractedly through the orientation booklet.

“Hey! Stevie!” Joey whisper-shouts from the end of the row.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter.

“Do you know that guy?” Pattie asks on a whisper.

“Unfortunately, yes.” I keep my head down, determined not to give him any kind of sign that will make him think he has half a chance of getting back on my good side. Ever.

“Psst, Stevie.” His voice is closer now, like right beside my ear.

I glance at Pattie and mouth, Is he behind me?

She nods.

The tiny woman made of 100 percent muscle standing at the front of the room looks beyond me, her mouth twisting into a frown. “Mr. Smuck, did you need a refresher? Is that why you’re gracing us with your presence?”

Yes, Joey’s last name is Smuck. The irony is hard to ignore.

Every single person in the room is now looking at him, and I’m a sitting duck for whatever his response is going to be. I can feel the heat in my cheeks.

His hand, the one that was slapping the bare ass of someone other than me, lands on my shoulder. “Just saying hi to my—”

Embarrassment collides with incredulity and rage. I drop my arm, stabbing him in the shin with my pen. To his credit, he only half chokes on a groan, finishing with a cough and “Friend.”

The room is pin-drop silent. I want to melt into the floor and disappear.

“Save your social calls for off-work hours, Mr. Smuck.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.” He lowers his voice and whispers, “You can’t avoid me forever.” Then he shuffles down the row and saunters out of the room with a slight limp.

Once he’s gone, our orientation leader gets down to business as if the interruption never happened. And by business, I mean icebreakers. It’s like being back in high school with the games she pulls out. I almost feel bad about everyone’s complete lack of enthusiasm with how excited she is.

She has one of the new recruits in the first row pull a card from a top hat. We’re supposed to shout out the first thing that comes to mind after it’s been read aloud. Whoever gets similar responses will end up working in groups together for the rest of the day.

“What food is an absolute no-no on a first date?” the poor guy who pulled the question asks the room.

Several people shout out “Garlic!” or “Onions!”

I yell, much louder than necessary, “Bratwurst!”

At the same time, Pattie beside me shouts, “Hot dog!”

Jules follows it with, “Penis! I mean banana!”

Suddenly I’m not the most embarrassed person in the room anymore, and I think I’ve found my girl squad.

CHAPTER 4

UNDERWEAR CHALLENGE

Stevie

After orientation Pattie and Jules invite me out for dinner, but I’m supposed to go to my brother’s for a combined post-birthday-new-job celebration, so I ask for a rain check. I join them for a quick drink, though, since we finished up with the orientation-day activities earlier than anticipated. It’s nice to have friends already, especially with Joey working there and apparently wanting to be my shadow, based on the number of times I ran into him today.

My sister-in-law, Lainey, picks me up from the pub on her way home.

Kody, my nephew, is harnessed into his car seat, babbling away as he bangs two squishy hockey pucks together. “Evie!” he yells when I get into the SUV.

I twist in the passenger seat and tickle his foot, which is missing a shoe. “Hey, little man! I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten!” I give Lainey a side hug. “Thanks for coming all the way out here to get me.”