“Stevie.” He drops his arm.

“I have a client.” I sidestep around him and head for the door so I’m not tempted to do something that will get me written up for workplace harassment.

Pattie and Jules grab me before lunch and steer me away from the staff room. “We need to talk to you,” Jules says as we step out into the warm September afternoon and drop our stuff on the closest picnic table.

“Joey already cornered me this morning.”

“We’re so sorry. He’s never here early, but today he was, and he signed you up right in front of Loretta, so we couldn’t do anything about it.” Pattie looks as distressed as I felt when he corralled me by my locker earlier.

I pat her hand reassuringly before I continue to unpack my lunch. “It’s okay. I appreciate the attempted save.”

“Maybe we could talk to Loretta and explain the situation so you can get out of it.”

I shrug off the idea. Complaining to my boss about working with my ex-boyfriend won’t look great on me, and I’m not particularly keen on explaining my personal life to the people who issue my paychecks. “Honestly, it’s probably best if I deal with Joey. If nothing else I can make his life miserable while he’s forcing us to spend time together. Plus he owes me money, and it’ll be easier to get it out of him this way.” I hope I’m right about that. Joey isn’t known for his great money-management skills, hence the reason I had to front all the first month’s rent in advance. The more time I have to think about it, the more I realize how poor a boyfriend choice he really was.

Pattie makes a face. “What if we sign up too? So you could come over to our place to work on it. Can you imagine how uncomfortable Joey would be, surrounded by our brothers?”

As alluring as the idea is, I’m not sure it’s a good one in the long run. “I appreciate the offer, and if I need backup, I’ll let you know. Anyway, change of topic from one douche to another. You know that guy I told you about who lives across the hall?”

“You mean Billboard Balls?” Jules asks.

“That’s the one.” I nod.

Pattie props her chin on her fist. “That is literally my favorite nickname ever. What kind of panties was he sporting this morning?”

“Caution tape, but there’s more.” I fill them in on what happened last night: how I was nice enough to let him sleep on my couch despite his being a giant a-hole and that I found out this morning that he’s my brother’s teammate, Bishop Winslow, the guy who was injured in last night’s exhibition game.

“Whoa, wait, you’re telling me you have a professional hockey player living across the hall from you with a groin injury?” Pattie’s eyes light up like a disco ball.

“Who is on my brother’s team and who thought I was my brother’s mistress until this morning, yes.”

Jules makes a face. “That’s just . . . ew.”

“Very ew,” Pattie agrees, “but I guess I can kind of see where he might have gotten the idea.”

“That I was a puck bunny?”

“Yes. No. I mean, why else would a hot woman suddenly move into an empty penthouse in the middle of the night that is supposed to be for your brother, right? It’s not like you broadcast that you’re related to Rook. You don’t have any pictures of him on your social media, and all of these guys are new to each other. I’m just saying I can kind of see how he might make that mistake, and if you think about it, maybe it’s a good thing he was an asshole to you.”

“How is him being an asshole a good thing?” I pop a grape into my mouth.

“He thought you were screwing a married guy with a family. At least you know he has a moral compass.”

“Ooh, good point.” Jules nods her agreement.

I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess it sort of makes sense, especially with his “morally defunct” and “home-wrecker” comments. “He called me a boner-killer.”

Pattie makes a face. “You are definitely not a boner-killer. My guess is he said that because he thought you were a bunny. Anyway, I have a spectacular idea.” She pauses, maybe for effect.

“Which is what?” Jules quirks a brow.

“You should offer to help him with PT.” Pattie smiles widely, as if she’s handed me the Holy Grail.

“Why would I do that when he’s been nothing but a huge jerk?”

Pattie grins. “If for no other reason than his being a jerk is the top of the list.”

“That makes no sense.” I pluck another grape from my container. “Besides, the team will already have a physiotherapist working with him.”

“Yes, but groin injuries are hell, and they take weeks to heal. It’s Seattle’s first season. Every single player on that team—apart from your brother, who waived his no-trade clause—has something huge to prove. They’re all seconds. They weren’t good enough to save, but they’re good enough to start a new team. That has to mess with a player’s head.”

“Especially when he gets injured in the first exhibition game of the season,” Jules adds.

“Exactly.” Pattie points her carrot stick at me. “He’s going to want to be on the ice sooner rather than later.”

“Okay, I can see what you’re saying.” I imagine if RJ were the one with the injury, he’d do everything he could to get back in the game.

“I bet all it would take is the suggestion that more PT is better than less to get him to agree. And if he does, you’ll have experience working with an NHL professional, which is more than anyone else on our staff can say. Also, you said he’s hot, and you’ll get to help him stretch out his groin, which will be hella uncomfortable for him and payback for you. It’s all win.”

“There’s no guarantee he’ll agree to let me help him.”

Jules snorts. “Do you want to know why seventy-five percent of your current clients are either women over fifty or girls with injuries?”

“Because I’m new?”

“Because the managers don’t trust the jocks not to hit on you.” Pattie takes a long sip of her iced tea.

“Or fake groin injuries so you’ll rub down the inside of their thighs.” Jules waggles her brows.

I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“Seriously, we overheard two of the managers talking about it yesterday because you had like five thousand requests, and every single one is a dude.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“You’re hot, Stevie. It’s a blessing and a curse.”

Jules clinks her iced tea against Pattie’s. “Might as well use it to your advantage.”

I don’t get home until after seven. Thankfully, I don’t run into Joey again, although he does text me, asking when we can get together to start planning for the gala. I ignore the message rather than respond with something along the lines of When the eleventh circle of hell opens and clowns are running the show.

I’m barely in my door when there’s a knock. I press my eye to the peephole and find my neighbor’s chiseled jaw taking up the window of space. I can’t imagine what he could possibly want, unless he’s left something in my apartment.