Page 1 of Off Pitch

Prologue

Seven years earlier…

“What the…” I say, stepping into my apartment hallway after my shower.

I adjust the towel wrapped around my hips as I start to follow the trail of discarded clothing leading to my bedroom door.

Skirt.

Blouse.

Bra.

Panties.

And I can feel the excitement stir below my waist when I know I’m going to find my favorite brunette beauty on the other side of the door.

“Emily,” I say, pushing my door open. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you,” I hear her voice reply in the dark. When she flips on the bedside lamp, I can finally take her in.

Completely bare, save for a pair of red high heels.

“Fuck, Em.” I’m across the room in seconds, my towel dropping as soon as I start climbing on the bed to descend on her. “What the fuck did I do to deserve this?”

She runs her finger up my throat before resting it under my chin, turning me to face her. “We still need to celebrate you, Knox.”

“All it took was getting drafted first overall to earn this, huh?”

Emily leans up to kiss me as she slowly lets her legs drift open. “Let me show you how proud I am of you, baby.”

With my last coherent thought, I grab the box of condoms I keep in my nightstand.

There’s no way in hell I’m letting her leave my bed tonight.

one

Harlow

I don’t know howElla doesn’t break her finger with that rock sitting atop it. Mine hurts just looking at it.

“Josh can’t do simple, can he?” Lucia laughs as Ella waves her hand around, finally showing off the engagement ring we’ve been dying to see.

“You know him, right?” Ella replies. “There was no way that man didn’t go for the biggest diamond he could find.”

“He’s the epitome of go big or go home,” Rory says as she tucks her dark, curly hair behind her ear.

I take Ella’s hand and inspect the ring for myself. “And he’s absolutely mad about you.” I let go of her hand, and she rests it on the table. “How’s his leg feeling now?”

“So much better,” Ella replies happily. “He’s so excited to be back on the field for Opening Day tomorrow.”

“We’re glad he’s going to be back, too,” I reply. “The Stars couldn’t even survive the first round of the playoffs last year without him.”

Lucia swishes the glass of red wine in her hand. “Blame him for not stretching enough during training. If he did, he might not have torn his ACL.”

Rory eyes her mischievously. “Shouldn’t we blame the trainers for not making him stretch enough?”

“The players are grown men,” Lucia chides, crossing her arms. “I can’t make them do shit. I can advise them, but it’s on them to actually do it.”

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