Page 132 of Off Pitch

What a whirlwind thepast month has been.

Knox is now four weeks post-injury and should be cleared to return to the field soon—hopefully at his appointment today.

I spent a few days trying to put distance between us, but there was no point in it. None of that mattered when I came here to help him recover. We were together all day, so I couldn’t have stayed away if I wanted to.

And the thing is, Ididn’twant to.

I was hurting those few days before Knox’s injury, but I missed being with him. It didn’t take long for things to return to normal.

We’re flirting and having fun together, nothing more than that.

I’m also sleeping in the bed beside him again. I tried to tell myself I shouldn’t, but in the battle between my brain and my heart, my heart always wins.

Could that come back and hurt me all over again?

Possibly.

I’m just trying to remain optimistic and enjoy my time with him.

Currently, that means we’re still lying in bed, legs tangled together with Knox’s arm draped over me.

“We should really get up, you know,” I say.

“I’d rather just stay right here,” he replies. “I like this view.”

“The view of me with sleep hair and teeth that definitely need to be brushed?”

Knox smiles softly and pushes my hair behind my ear. “Yes, that view.”

I shake my head. “I look like a mess right now.”

“You don’t see yourself the way I do then,” he assures me. “You’re just as beautiful when you wake up as you are after you get ready for the day—maybe even more beautiful, honestly. Your guard is down, and you shine even brighter. You’re confident in your skin, and it’s sexy as hell, Harlow. Own it.”

All I can do is melt. His words sound genuine and sincere. How could I not listen to them?

“Thank you, Knox. That’s very sweet.”

“Ooh, don’t tell the guys then,” he says with a smirk. “I have a reputation to uphold here, Lo.”

“Can’t have that,” I laugh. “It would be tragic for everyone to discover that Fort Knox is such a simp.”

“A simp?” he asks, trying to decide between laughing or being offended. “I think I’m just being nice.”

“Call it whatever you want, Slick. I know the truth.”

He rolls on top of me, pinning me beneath him. “You think you know me, Freckles?”

My heart is racing. We last found ourselves in this position a month ago. It’s giving me thoughts I’ve been trying to suppress, but they’re all rearing back to the surface. “I do know you.”

He leans down closer, almost pressing our bodies together. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because I do,” I say, lowering my voice and molding my body against his. He groans when I press his hard length between us. “Knew it.”

“Harlow,” he says, no humor in his tone. “I might not be fucking you now, but I sure as hell still think about it. I remember the way you feel, the sounds you make.” Knox brushes his lips against the outside of my ear. “I’ll never forget that.”

My breath catches in my throat. What did I think was going to happen here? That I’d press his dick between us, and he would just let it go?

Not a fucking chance.

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