Page 125 of Off Pitch

“Where is that coming from?” I ask.

“I’m just curious. You know about Derek and how he felt about them. Why do you feel differently than he did?”

“Are you still uncomfortable with them, Lo?” That slips, but I don’t correct myself this time. Harlow’s sweet smile tells me I don’t need to.

“I’m not, actually,” she admits. “I loved them before Derek, and now I’m finally loving them again after Derek. And that’s because of you. Well, sort of, at least. You helped me see that I didn’t need to hide them from anyone.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I really am.” Her smile is so bright it’s almost blinding, but I just take it all in. I’ve missed being the one to put a smile on her face. “To answer your question, though, I think the freckles are very pretty. They just make you… you.”

“Thank you. That’s very sweet.”

“I do mean that, Harlow.”

“I know.”

God, I was such a fucking idiot last week.

I can’t believe I ever claimed this to be fake when I’m falling so goddamn hard for this woman right here.

Now, we’re back on the path that might enable me to do something about it.

forty-six

Knox

In the two weeksafter my injury, I was released from my crutches and started physical therapy. I’m able to tolerate more and more activity again, but Harlow is still making sure I rest and elevate my leg as well.

Harlow is the greatest blessing during this. It would be easy for me to slip back into my self-loathing tendencies, but she’s with me, brightening everything up. It’s hard not to be optimistic when the poster child for happiness is prancing around your penthouse.

Any awkwardness and tension between us has all but dissipated. We talk frequently now, both deep conversations and completely meaningless ones. They’re all just as interesting because I hang on to every word she says.

Am I in deep?

Yeah, deeper than I ever fucking realized.

I knew before that I loved spending time with Harlow, but having her around twenty-four/seven for the past two weeks has shown me how much.

My recovery is going really well so far, and I may be able to return to the baseball field in another week or two. And since she’s only staying with me while I recover, I’m not as thrilled about that as I should be. I can’t wait to return to the field, but I also don’t want Harlow to leave.

Bit of a catch-22, honestly.

I finally convinced her that I was well enough to be alone for a few hours so she could grab dinner with the girls. The Stars had an early afternoon game today, so they’re free, and she should be seeing people other than just me and my physical therapist right now.

I spend the time while she’s away relaxing and elevating my leg.

Okay, that’s partially true.

I am elevating my leg, but there is no relaxation. I’m currently just sitting here, wondering what Harlow’s talking about with Lucia, Rory, and Ella. Is she talking about me? If she is, is she saying good things?

I guess that’s where I am now, so consumed by someone that I had a temporarily fraught relationship with that I can’t focus on anything other than what she might be saying about me.

God, I sound pathetic.

But the strangest part is that I don’t even hate it.

I can’t remember ever being this fuckinghappybefore. I’ll take the pathetic feelings if it means I’m actually enjoying my life, not just getting by.

The sound of my door opening grabs my attention, and my eyes remain fixed on that spot as Harlow walks inside.

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