Page 60 of Off Pitch

As long as we’re faking this relationship, I’ll be the one to do that for her.

After practice, I go back to my penthouse to find something more presentable to wear. Athletic clothing probably isn’t the correct attire for where we’re heading. I throw on a short-sleeved black Henley top and a pair of dark jeans and then head to the garage to grab my car before texting Harlow that I’m coming to pick her up.

When I pull up in front of her building, I find her waiting out front for me… and several people with cameras waiting in the bushes across the street. Fucking ridiculous. But I’m not about to be seen as less than chivalrous.

I hop out of my Maserati and walk over to greet her. “Hey there, Lo,” I say before leaning down and kissing her softly. So fucking dangerous because now I want more.

Harlow’s lips still brushing against mine, she asks, “Cameras?”

“There’s always cameras,” I tell her as I wrap my arm around her shoulder and lead her to my car. I open up the passenger door and help her into her seat as she just smiles at me.

Once I walk around and jump into the driver seat again, she looks at me and says, “You know, for a fake boyfriend, I think you’re better than any of the actual boyfriends I’ve had.”

“Like I said before, you were with shitty men.”

“Are you not a shitty man then, Knox?” she asks with a smile.

“I have my moments,” I reply honestly, returning her smile. “But I like to think I’m not so shitty with you.”

“You’re not,” she says as I pull out onto the street before she adds in a lower voice, “You’re so much better.”

My heart swells. Or it feels like it did. Regardless, such a small comment like that shouldn’t do this to me, right?

But she just told me I’m so much better than anyone she’s been with. It’s hard not to take that for truth when Harlow doesn’t say anything she doesn’t mean. I’m a lucky son of a bitch because I’m pretty sure I hit the fake girlfriend jackpot.

“So,” she says, taking me out of my thoughts. “You never did tell me where we’re going today.”

“All you need to know is that you’re shopping for your dress for the charity dinner. You’ll find out where we’re going when we get there,” I reply coyly.

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “You’re so damn lucky I like surprises, Slick.”

“I do consider myself lucky,” I say honestly, and I hear her breath catch in her throat. She caught on to my double meaning there, just like I thought she would. She makes it difficult to not be completely honest, though, so I just spill what I’m thinking. That’ll probably bite me in the ass at some point, but so far, it’s going well.

She’s quiet as I weave in and out of traffic on our way to midtown Manhattan. Maybe my honesty was a bit too much. Or maybe she’s mulling it over, figuring out what she thinks about it.

Either way, her train of thought is broken as we finally reach our destination. Lucia and Rory are both waiting for us outside of the building.

“Knox,” she says with excitement. “You did not!”

I smile. “I did.”

“This is Rana Dagon’s studio.”

“It is,” I say with a light laugh.

“I love Rana Dagon’s designs.”

“Lo, that’s exactly why we’re here. You mentioned how much you like her designs, so I figured this would be the perfect place to find your dress.”

“How did you even get an appointment?” she asks, turning to me. “Her waitlist is years long.”

“Harlow, I’m arguably the best pitcher in the league. And if you were unaware, Rana happens to be a massive Stars fan. I pulled a few strings, and here we are. She’s waiting inside to help you three find your dresses for the dinner.”

Before I can process what’s happening, Harlow leans across the seat and pecks my lips. “Thank you, Knox,” she says, smiling sweetly as she exits the car to meet Lucia and Rory.

I’m left in my thoughts for a moment, running my thumb over my bottom lip, where the feel of her kiss still lingers.

“Ah, please come in!” Rana says as she ushers us inside. “I’m thrilled to finally have a Stars player here, though I never expected the first one to be Fort Knox.”

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