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fifteen

Harlow

Once we leave the airport, Knox quickly stops at my apartment. I want to drop off my suitcase and change out of what I wore on the plane. While he’s waiting in the car, I throw on a pair of cropped black leggings and a white crop top, one tight enough that it puts my chest on display—I’ve never been shy about showing myself off. And considering Knox doesn’t say a word to me after I get back in the car, I think it’s also enough to thoroughly distract my fake boyfriend. He keeps a tight grip on the steering wheel and won’t take his eyes off the road in front of him.

When we pull into the parking garage of Knox’s building, he leads me through the back entrance to avoid the media out front. In the elevator, he taps the button for the top floor, and we slowly ascend.

“Holy shit,” I say as Knox and I step off the elevator and through the front door into his penthouse. “So, this is how the other half lives, huh?”

“I’m just a person, Harlow. No different than you.”

I turn to him in disbelief. “You live in a multi-million-dollar penthouse and drive a Maserati. You’re not just a person.”

He sighs. “I try to be as normal as possible. I’m not some pretentious asshole, but I do allow myself to indulge in nice things if I feel they’re worth it.”

“That’s fair,” I say. “Sorry if that just made you uncomfortable.”

“I appreciate that, but you’re okay. I know it can be a bit of a shock to step in here when it’s not something you’re used to seeing.”

“Yeah, Cole’s apartment is nice, but it’s not as nice as this. He’s not big on extravagance.”

“You realize I’ve been to your brother’s place before, right?” he says with a smile.

“Right, that would make sense. Sorry, I’m being a little weird right now, and I don’t know why.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry about it, Freckles. I’m going to drop my bag off in my room and change. Feel free to take a look around while you wait.”

Knox pads off down the hall. When I hear his door shut, I allow myself to roam around and explore the place.

I walk around the kitchen, which I think is the size of my entire apartment, appreciating the luxury appliances I’ll never be able to afford. His place is different than I thought it would be. I expected a bachelor pad, but this penthouse is so well put together. There are decorations on the walls, books on the coffee table, and fruit displayed in the kitchen.

I make my way across the living room to the dark navy curtains, which are drawn closed. I swing them open, and I’m stunned by the sight.

Knox lives in Battery Park City. From here, you can see the entirety of Lower Manhattan. The view is stunning. I don’t think I’d ever have these curtains closed if I were the one who lived here.

“Enjoying the view?” Knox says from behind me, causing me to jump.

“Shit,” I say, hand to my chest, “you can’t sneak up on me like that.”

I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart, only to find myself taking in a very different, incredible view—Knox in a tight black T-shirt and gray sweatpants.

Fuck me…

“You’re looking a little flustered? Everything okay?” he says with a smirk.

“You’re in gray sweatpants. It’s not my fault that I’m flustered right now.”

“Yeah?” he replies, cocking an eyebrow. “What’s special about gray sweatpants?”

“You know,” I respond, getting even more flustered. “Don’t make me tell you what you already know, Spencer.”

Knox walks backward, eyes on me with a giant smile on his face, as he moves to sit on the couch across from the window. “I have no idea what you mean, Harlow Pierce.”

“So, you have no idea that gray sweatpants show off the bulge of your dick then?” I challenge as I walk to sit on the couch beside him.

“Are you checking out my dick bulge, Harlow?”

“What? No, of course not!” is what I say. But what I meant was Yes, I am, and I’m impressed by what I see.

“Thank goodness,” he says, pretending to sigh in relief. “I don’t think we’re close enough for you to be thinking about my dick yet, Pierce.”

“Yet?” I ask. “I shouldn’t be thinking about your dick at all, Mr. Fake Boyfriend.”

He leans back against the couch, chuckling. “I think that’s enough about my dick for one day. Let’s order some food. How’s Thai sound?”

“Oh my God,” I say, sinking down into the back of the plush sofa. “That’s the best pad see ew I’ve ever had!”

“It’s my favorite Thai place,” Knox says, leaning back and turning to face me. “They have the best food.”

“I’m coming to you for recommendations from now on then.”

“Have at it, Pierce. I’m not much of a cook, so I know all the best takeout on this side of Manhattan.”

“Good to know.”

“Happy to be of service, Freckles.” We both laugh. “You know, I think I still need to know more about you.”

“You need to know, or you want to know?” I ask. “Seems like you want to know more about me, Spencer.”

He smiles lightly. “You got me all figured out, don’t you?” Knox laughs before continuing. “Turns out you’re fun to be around. I’d consider you a friend at this point, and I like to learn about my friends, Harlow.”

“Lo.”

“What?”

“My friends usually call me Lo.”

“Okay then,” he says, smiling brighter. “Tell me something I don’t know about you yet, Lo.”

I can’t help but smile when he says Lo. Everyone calls me that, so it’s nothing new, but it sounds so much better coming from Knox. We’re very different people, but I think it’s safe to say we hit it off. We’re going to be great friends when this is all over.

“Let’s see… what don’t you know about me yet?” I say aloud as I wrack my brain. “Oh, I’m an ESFJ-A.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“My personality type,” I reply. “I’m considered a Consul—I’m very attentive and social. I’m also very extroverted and take dating and relationships very seriously.”

“How do you even figure that out?”

“You take a test and answer questions on a sliding scale; your responses will tell you your personality type.”

“Why do you need a test to tell you that?” he asks. “I could have told you that you were extroverted without you having to take a test.”

“And I can tell you’re cynical without you having to take a test.” I smile. “Why don’t we figure out your personality type? It could be kind of fun.”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Fuck it. Why not?”

Knox grabs his laptop, and I help him find the testing page. Ten minutes later, he stares at the screen, confused.

“What the hell does ISTJ-T mean?” he asks, confounded by the string of letters staring back at him from his computer.

“Ah, you’re a Logistician. That makes sense.”

“Doesn’t make sense to me.”

I turn his laptop and point at different parts of the screen. “It says here that you say what you mean, always follow through with something, and are not attention-seeking. That all seems spot-on for you, Spencer.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Knox says, running a hand through his hair, letting it fall messily on his head in a way that shouldn’t be distracting yet distracts me anyway. He looks good in a way that’s so effortless .

“It’s not bad to be that way, you know.”

“Yeah. It does show that I’m completely opposite of you, though, even if we already knew that.”

“Well, they do say opposites attract,” I say, giving him a soft smile.

Knox scoots closer to me on the couch. “You saying you’re attracted to me?”

“Oh, I just mean for our fake relationship,” I say with a faux smile. “I would never insinuate that I’m actually attracted to you. I’m not even sure how I could be.”

“And yet,” he says, leaning in closer and nearly brushing his lips against my cheek. “You are.”

Yes, I am, I think to myself. I’ve always been attracted to Knox, but it was in a physical way. Now that I’m getting to know him, I’m unsure where that’s leaving me. I really enjoy being around him. And as surprising as it is, he’s easy to talk to. We’re very different, but it’s undeniable that we have some sort of chemistry between us, even if it is just platonic.

“It’s getting late,” I say, eager to change the subject. “I should probably head to the subway station so I can get home.”

Knox grabs his phone to look at it. “Lo, it’s almost midnight. You know I can’t let you take the damn subway right now.”

“What do you suggest I do then?”

He smiles. “Stay here tonight. I have a guest bedroom with clothing in the closet you can use to wear to sleep. I’ll drive you to your apartment in the morning.”

I like the idea of seeing how Knox looks first thing in the morning, so my answer is easy. “Okay,” I say.

The sun peeks in through the curtains of Knox’s guest bedroom. Last night was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months. The plush mattress and soft sheets were impossible not to sink into. And the Huntington Devils—the Stars triple-A team—T-shirt of his I wore to sleep in is worn out enough to be almost threadbare in spots but the perfect softness in others.

With my messy hair pulled into a bun, I tiptoe into the kitchen in case Knox is still sleeping. But he isn’t. No, when I get to the kitchen, I find an unexpected but very welcome sight—Knox shirtless while fixing a cup of coffee.

He’s turned away from me so he can’t watch me as I check out every muscle and ridge on his back leading down to the athletic shorts hanging low on his hips. Beneath that is the ass I’ve been staring at for three years now. Goddamn, he looks even better than I imagined.

“I know you’re there, Lo,” Knox says, back still turned as he breaks me out of my trance. “You checking me out?”

“What? No!” I stammer as he turns to face me, chuckling and bringing his coffee cup to his lips. And now that he’s turned toward me, I can see all of the definition in his chest and abs that he’s earned from years of lifting weights and pitching on the baseball field.

“You’re still staring, you know.”

I quickly avert my eyes, trying to play it off and failing miserably. “I-I just wasn’t expecting to find you shirtless, that’s all,” I mumble as I slide past him, reaching for a mug to grab a cup of coffee for myself. “You think too highly of yourself, Slick.”

I fix my coffee while Knox remains eerily silent. Afraid that I may have offended him, I turn to apologize only to find him slack-jawed. “You okay, Knox?” I ask, slightly concerned.

“Oh, um… yeah. All good.” He runs a hand through that luscious, deep brown hair. “I just didn’t think I’d be seeing you in my old shirt, that’s all.”

Ah . Looks like I can fluster him as much as he flusters me.