Color me surprised. “The one who left you for your competitor in a fit of you’ll-rue-the-day-you-let-me-go anger?”

“Thanks for the reminder of her parting words.”

“Would it be easier if I reminded you that you thought she was smoking hot, and your greatest accomplishment each day was not staring at her every single second she was under the engine or bent over the hood?”

He narrows his eyes. “Nothing ever happened with her,” he says through gritted teeth.

“So what was the call about then?”

He gives me a ten-second overview of the call, and my jaw drops. “Well, that’s going to make for one hell of a tawdry tale.”

He claps my back. “But that’s a story for another time.”

“I look forward to that time then,” I say, since I can’t wait to hear more about the woman who drove my brother crazy once upon a time.

A few minutes later, after Harper bests her cocky brother, she circles by, pointing to a low table in the corner of the room next to some comfy emerald green chairs. “They’ve got Scrabble back here. Want to play?”

Max shakes his head. “Nah.”

But Scrabble is hard for me to resist, and I’m sure Harper knows my weakness. She nudges me. “What about you, Chase? You and Josie are a good combo, right?”

From a few feet away, Josie chimes in, “We’re the best. We beat the Hammer twins every time.”

Harper rubs her hands together. “I can’t wait to see that.” She tips her chin to the game by the chairs. “Show us how good you can be.”

Nick grabs a chair and flips open the board. “Or don’t you think you can beat us, Doctor Brain?”

I have no choice. I must destroy him now. “Those are fighting words, Nick. Prepare to die on the Scrabble board. A slow, painful death wrought by triple word scores and more combinations with J and X than you can even begin to spell.”

Josie cracks up. “Yes, dear brothers. We play to kill.”

And we do.

We win with a final combination of “onerous” and the “ex” that Josie builds on our final turn.

I try to read nothing into it. It’s just a two-letter word.

When everyone else is busy doing couple stuff, she rests a hand on my arm. “I’m glad we can do this, Chase. I’m glad we’re still friends. Are you?”

“Absolutely. I’m stoked we’re friends, too.”

But she’s also something else. She’s an ex, and that’s a whole other thing. I’m learning being friends with an ex isn’t the same as being friends with a woman.

Once you’ve crossed the line into lovers, everything changes. Returning to the way you were before isn’t easy.

It’s onerous.

35

From the pages of Josie’s Recipe Book

* * *

Josie’s Liquid Courage

* * *

Ingredients

Coffee

Cinnamon

Courage

* * *

Brew your best Ethiopian coffee in a coffeemaker.

Pour into your favorite mug. Stir in cinnamon. Add a dollop of cream.

Get ready. You can do anything.

36

That Sunday, Max and I finish the century. Our team comes in third, and we raise a few thousand dollars for veterans. Not too shabby for two dudes who aren’t pro cyclists.

The next morning he leaves for a car show, and on the way to work I finish an audiobook on the role of randomness in our lives (spoiler: chance is everything). At the hospital, I start my shift with a patient who’s suffering from an early case of the flu. We treat her and then move on to a boy with a broken arm. They’re textbook cases, and we take care of them.

Everything feels as normal as it can possibly be. Amazing, how you can think you won’t survive a broken heart, but experience has taught me that you always do. You just keep moving forward. Life goes on, and during my lunch break with David, I grab a turkey sandwich from the cafeteria and get in line to pay. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot an orthopedic surgeon I know as he unfolds a brown lunch bag and takes out a tuna fish sandwich. My first instinct is to text Josie that I’ve spotted someone in the wild eating our least favorite food.

Briefly, I wonder if I can still do that. If I should do that. And the fact that I don’t know the right answer gnaws at my gut.

But then it’s my turn to pay. As I open my wallet to grab some bills, a business card falls out. I grab it from the counter next to the cashier and flip it over. Kevin’s card. Right. He included it when he gave me the cooking class certificate.

Oh shit.

I never thanked him for the class.

When I finish my turkey sandwich, I push away from the table, and tell David I need to go. Out in the corridor, I lob in a call, and Kevin’s receptionist puts me through right away when I say who I am.

“Dr. Summers, how the hell are you? I hope you aren’t calling to tell me you found something suspicious in an old forehead X-ray of mine?”

I laugh and shake my head. “Nope, and call me Chase. Anyway, I wanted to say thank you for the class. That was nice of you to do. We had a great time.”

“Awesome. Did you get engaged, too?”

I stop in my tracks in front of the MRI room. “What? No. Why? I just went with a friend.”

“Ah, that’s cool. I was just messing with you, since Cassidy and I got engaged that night.”

“Because of the class?” I ask, resuming my pace toward the stairwell.