Page 19 of Off Pitch

And then realization washes over me. These seats were explicitly picked for us. We’re next to the dugout, but we’re alsonot behind the netting. He probably doesn’t realize my season ticket seats are open like this, and he wanted to make sure he could reach me.

Knox walks up to me, eye to eye since I’m in the raised seating, and wraps an arm around my waist. He leans forward, giving me a gentle hug.

As he pulls away, he whispers, “Ready for this, Pierce?” and without a moment’s hesitation, his lips meet mine.

Knox iskissing me. In front of tens of thousands of fans. In front of millions of viewers watching at home, having tuned in to see the completion of a no-hitter.

The surprise washes away, and I quickly return the kiss, throwing my arms around his shoulders and bringing him closer.

At that moment, the outside world ceases to exist. It’s just us. It’s just this moment. And I have only one thought.

Knox Spencer is a damn good kisser.

eight

Knox

Time stands still. Theroar of the crowd must be deafening, but I don’t hear a thing.

I knew we needed a way to launch this “relationship” that left no doubt. Something that wasn’t ambiguous where people could try to say Harlow is just a friend. A kiss on the field after an unexpected no-hitter certainly conveys that message.

What I wasn’t expecting, though, was for Harlow tokiss me back. I thought I’d peck her lips, and that would be that. But as soon as our lips meet, she throws her arms around my neck, pulling me in closer as she molds her body against mine.

But the most unexpected part of this kiss is how good it feels, howrightit feels. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline pumping after a game or how soft her lips feel, but this kiss with Harlow is electric. I can feel the sparks blazing between us, and I’ve no doubt that everyone around us can see them, too.

One more kiss, and we part, her arms still draped around my shoulders. Her forehead is pressed against mine, and those deep blue eyes bore right into me. “Hi,” she says.

“Hi,” I reply back. “You good?”

“Yeah.” She smiles brightly. “I’m good.”

“Good.”

“You looked incredible out there tonight. You pitched a fantastic game.” She gazes at me for a few more seconds before saying, “Go celebrate with your team, Knox. I’ll find you outside of the clubhouse later.”

She removes her arms from me, and I slowly walk away, dazed and confused, wondering what the hell just happened.

After we leave the field, Skipper asks Lane, Cole, and me to head into the media room for the post-game press conference. Lane hit a three-run homer tonight, and Cole had a two-run double and a couple of other runs. The three of us had great games tonight.

This will be my first press conference since we started this whole fake dating thing. And since that’s only part of rebranding my image, I need to handle the media here more gracefully than usual. That won’t be difficult, not tonight. The high of my second career no-hitter combined with the electricity coursing through my body after that kiss will probably make this my best media appearance yet.

In front of the media room is a long table with four chairs and four microphones. Skipper takes the far seat, followed by Lane, me, and Cole, who rounds us out.

After clearing his throat, Skip addresses the small crowd before us. “Thank you for coming here tonight. We had a big win today, and I think the three men up here beside me played a large part in why. We’re open to questions now.”

A female reporter in the second row raises her hand to speak. “Spencer, how are you feeling right now?”

The corner of my mouth pulls up into a smile. It’s hardly a surprise that the no-hitter is the first thing on their minds right now. “I’m feeling pretty good. This is all a little surreal, but it feels good.” Cole knows about my need to improve my relationship with the media. Lane doesn’t. And he’s already giving me side-eye because I never speak this much. I’m sure part of that is also me kissing Harlow in front of everyone when he’s entirely in the dark about the situation.

“Pierce,” a male reporter in the front row says, “You had one of the best games of your career tonight, five hits in six at-bats. Four runs batted in. What was going through your head on the field tonight?”

“Honestly,” Cole starts, “during a game, I only focus on the current moment, the current at-bat, the current defensive play. My only concern is making the most out of every play. Most of that worked in my favor tonight.”

“Brooks,” another male reporter in the back of the room says. “You hit a three-run home run in the first inning tonight. Do you think the game would have had such a high score if you hadn’t provided the momentum at the start?”

“Oh man,” Lane says, raking a hand through his light brown hair. “I’d love to take all of the credit. That would really feed into my ego.” The room laughs. Like I said before, Lane always gives the media what they want. “But tonight wasn’t my doing. We’re a team. We play together. If it wasn’t me who started the game off that strong, it would’ve been another one of these guys. I don’t think I had any hand in how the game played out.”

Lane may be the media darling, but he’s a real team player. He jokes about having an ego, but he’s probably one of the most grounded people on the team. We’re not alike in many ways, but his attitude is why he’s become one of my closest friends.

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