Page 135 of Off Pitch

Once I regain my bearings, I whisper, “I didn’t tell you when my birthday was.”

“You didn’t,” Knox smiles. “I had to ask Cole. I knew it was this month but didn’t know the day. I asked your brother a couple weeks ago so I could plan this.”

“You’re full of surprises, Spencer.” I look at him in reverence, my heart bursting with his gesture. He didn’t know my birthday, so he made it a point to find the day and ask my family and friends out to lunch to celebrate.

I’ve been wondering what I feel around Knox. It feels somewhat familiar but also foreign.

And I think I just figured out why.

That feeling I’ve been trying to place?

Love.

It’s familiar because I’ve been in love before.

It’s foreign because it’s never felt thisstrongbefore.

I was left heartbroken because those strong feelings I had weren’t reciprocated.

At least, that’s what he said.

Now, I’m not so sure.

We’re getting closer again, back to how we were a couple months ago. This time, though, he knows about my feelings for him. He knows how hurt I was last month when he told me nothing between us was real.

And I know Knox.

Iknowhe wouldn’t find his way back into my good graces just to turn around and hurt me again.

So, Knox allowing us to get back to where we were tells me that nothing is one-sided. He just needs to process all of that at his own pace.

Me, though?

Seems like I already have it figured out becauseI’m desperately in love with Knox Spencer.

Lunch is perfect.

Fort Knox is nowhere in sight today. He’s relaxed and conversational, engaging my parents in chats on the most mundane topics. And Cole does what Cole does best—endlessly tease us when we can’t say a damn thing about it. My parents don’t know about our arrangement, and with how much they like him today, I don’t really want them to find out.

He’s completely endearing himself to them. They’ll be heartbroken if they find out what’s really going on.

Knox wants to keep walking after lunch since Dr. Coltrain recommended he walk today to loosen up before tomorrow’s game. The breeze lessens the mid-August heat as we walk along the Hudson River Greenway.

“So,” I say. “You haven’t pulled another hammy, have you? Star pitcher needs to be ready to go tomorrow.”

He howls with laughter. “No, the hammy is still fine. I’m ready to get back on the mound tomorrow.”

“I’m excited to watch you tomorrow,” I say shyly.

“You know,” he says, “Dr. Coltraintechnicallyhasn’t released me yet. I think I’m going to need a helper for at least another night.”

I smile. “You just trying to get me to stay again, Knox?”

“Did it work?” he asks, lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Yes,” I admit. “It did work.”

“Good. I still need to give you shit for not telling me when your birthday was. Your boyfriend should not have to find out from your brother.”

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