Page 59 of Off Pitch

“We’ll get you a dress then. But we can talk about that tomorrow.” He brings a hand to his mouth to cover a yawn. “I’m pretty tired right now.”

“Yeah, sleep sounds like a good idea.” I stand to move the now-empty container of onion rings off the bed and to the small table. Knox meets me as I stand up and wraps me up in another hug.

“Thank you again, Lo.” He lets out a contented sigh. “It’s surprisingly kind of nice to have someone else who knows.”

I bring my head back and look right at Knox. “We’re friends now, Slick. You can lean on me when you need it.”

He rests his forehead against mine and smiles. And the goddamn butterflies retake flight. And the electricity sparks. And the heat flows through my body.

It’s undeniable now that there’s something between Knox and me. That’s worrying because we’re supposed to keep things light and easy. No complications, no strings. A fake relationship that ends when the season is over.

But when Knox’s mouth captures mine, kissing me for the first time without an audience, things start to seem heavier. As he parts my lips to stroke his tongue against mine, things begin to feel more complicated. And as he rests his hand on the back of my head to deepen the kiss, things start to feel a lot stringier.

My heart is happy, and my brain is scared. What do I do from here?

twenty-four

Knox

After our ten-game roadtrip between Pittsburgh, Boston, and Miami, we finally returned to New York. And now that we’re home, I have got to clear my goddamn head.

I kissed Harlow that first night in Pittsburgh.

It’s not like we haven’t kissed before, but it was the first time without watchful eyes, and it was so muchbetter. It was just us, caught up in a moment and surrendering ourselves to it.

Things have felt a bit awkward since the kiss, though. We still see each other daily, but it feels like we’re both afraid of acknowledging the kiss because we know it was different. And we don’t know if it actually means something.

But it did teach me one thing. It taught me that resisting Harlow is going to be fucking impossible. If I gave in so easily to a kiss, how much longer can I keep myself from trying to get her into my bed? I’m a weak man. It’s only a matter of time before the temptation wins…

“You got something on your mind there, Fort?” Lucia asks. She happens to be the trainer working with me at practice today on stretches for my shoulder before my start tomorrow night.

Lucky me, having to work with Harlow’s best friend for the next hour.

“Nope,” I lie. “Just thinking about tomorrow’s game.”

She snickers. “You’re not a good liar, Knox.”

I scoff. “I’m not that bad.”

“Well, you’re lying now, and I’m not buying it,” she says as she takes my right arm and extends it, stretching it out and then up.

“I’m not talking about it,” I reply, wincing as she moves my shoulder around again. I had a high pitch count during my last start, and my arm is evidently still feeling the effects.

She leans closer, lowering her voice to a whisper as she says, “It’s about the kiss, isn’t it?”

I groan. “Of course, she fucking told you about that.”

“Not willingly,” Lucia retorts. “But she’s been acting weird since that first night in Pittsburgh, too, and I eventually got it out of her.” She releases my arm and lets it rest at my side. “You guys don’t need to be weird about this. It was just a kiss.” She eyes me now, raising her brow. “Right?”

“Right,” I mutter. Because even if I wanted to kiss her again, kissing can easily lead to more, and I still need to do my damnedest to avoid that.

“Well then,” Lucia starts. “it’s lucky for you that Rory and I are coming along to pick out dresses later.” She looks at me and smirks. “We’ll be there to stop you in case of temptation.”

I roll my eyes as she gets back to work on my shoulder, manipulating it every which way.

My mind drifts to this afternoon when I agreed to take Harlow dress shopping for the charity dinner in a few weeks. Lucia and Rory are coming along as buffers; Ella apparently already bought a dress with Josh. But if two of her best friends are with us, I’m much less likely to do something I could regret. And seeing Harlow in a nice dress sets it up for me to do something monumentally stupid.

But she’s excited about this afternoon. She told me the last time she wore a formal dress was prom. Her excitement excites me as well. I like seeing her happy. And I want to show her that not all men are like her ex. She deserves to be celebrated in every way possible.

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