Page 116 of Off Pitch

“I’m very much not okay.” I look down the dugout to make sure Josh and I are alone over here. I don’t need everyone’s prying ears listening in. “So, Harlow and I aren’t actually dating.”

“What?” he shouts before lowering his voice. “What do you mean you’re not dating? You two are on the front of every fucking tabloid. Ella and I have seen you two getting cozy with each other for months.”

“It’s fake,” I admit. “My agent, Simon, set it up. I’m up for a contract with Axis and need a better image. Dating Harlow has helped me with that.”

“Fuck, man.” Josh rubs a hand over his face. “I had no idea. You seemed to be head over heels for her.” He thinks for a moment. “That’s why you weren’t sleeping together.”

“Well…” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Oh my God,” he says with a laugh. “You did end up sleeping with her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… then things started feeling real, and I panicked.”

“Why would you panic over that?”

“Because I have a… history. I don’t want to get into the details, not here. But because of that, I pulled away, and now Harlow will barely speak to me.”

“She’s not faking it, is she?” Josh asks.

I sigh. “No, she told me she wasn’t anymore. Now, we’re back to putting on a fucking show, and I fucking hate it. I can’t sleep. I’m pitching like shit because I can’t get it together. I can’t get her out of my goddamn mind.”

“Oh man,” Josh says with a knowing chuckle. “You aren’t faking it either.”

“Not according to what I told her,” I say, my head falling back to hit the wall of the dugout.

“You’re an absolute dumbass,” he says, shaking his head. “No wonder she won’t talk to you.”

“Yeah, I fucked up. I know that.” I take a deep breath. “I’m in so fucking deep, too, because I… I miss her. I really just fucking miss her.”

“Shit, it’s not just not fake to you. You sound like you’re in love with her.”

“Love? No. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it isn’t love.”

“Of course, it isn’t,” Josh says with a smirk. “Get your ass up, though. Lane and Cole just struck out, so you’re back on the mound.”

“Fuck me,” I groan.

We all jog back onto the field, and I’m hoping I can pull myself together for the third inning.

My hopes are dashed when my first two pitches of the inning end with two runners on base.

I’m beyond pissed at myself for letting this affect me so much. My career rides on me taking charge on the mound. A poor outing like this happens to every pitcher at one point or another, but it always stings when you can’t help your team during a game.

But the game can’t get any worse from here, right?

So, for my next pitch, I give it my all. My knuckleballs are all over the place tonight, so I settle on another fastball. I get into position and bring my arm back to toss the pitch.

But my form must have been off.

I must have moved too suddenly.

As soon as that pitch is out of my hand, I feel a pop in my left thigh.

And I’m down.

The play continues since it’s still a live ball, but it ends soon when Phoenix’s catcher hits a three-run home run off the fastball that just took me to the ground. Cole and Martin are at my side as soon as the play ends.

“Knox, what happened?” Cole asks, bending down to reach me on the ground.

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