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seventeen

Knox

Harlow listens to every word I say with undivided attention. She genuinely enjoys hearing me talk about something I like. And I actually find it nice to be open about myself with someone. It’s been so long since I’ve done that, but she seems to ease my worries and insecurities.

When we continue past the fort, we come upon the SeaGlass Carousel. She somehow talks me into going on with her. I see people taking pictures, so I’m sure images of us sitting inside a giant fish, Harlow on my lap as I hold her close, will end up plastered all over the internet by tonight. And since we both smile the entire time, the pictures will look real . That’s really what we’re both hoping for.

Now, we find ourselves on a bench overlooking New York Harbor as Harlow continues to listen to me ramble on about history. “What would you say is your favorite historical fact?” she asks, glancing up from the spot where she’s taken residence on my shoulder.

“In all of history? That’s a lot of time, Lo.”

She laughs. “Fine. What’s your favorite random fact in American history, then?”

“Okay, did you know that Abraham Lincoln’s son, Robert, was present for three presidential assassinations?”

“What? He saw three of them?!”

“He did,” I reply. “He was in Washington when his father was assassinated in 1863. He was on the scene when President James Garfield was shot in 1881. Garfield didn’t die directly from the gunshot but developed sepsis from it, and that’s what ultimately killed him. Robert was then also present when President William McKinley was assassinated in 1901.”

“Apparently, that man needed to stay away from sitting presidents,” she laughs. “That’s insane.”

“And probably a bit morbid,” I reply, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t shy away from a little morbidness.” She smiles at me again, and I think my heart skips a beat. I’ve been so closed off from everyone for so long that sitting with Harlow and having a conversation is just refreshing. I’m finding that I like her presence more and more.

“So, tell me this, Lo,” I say. “Why do you keep asking me about history? It doesn’t seem to be something you’re interested in.”

“I don’t dislike history or anything,” she replies, “but it was never my favorite subject. I’ve known you for years, though, Knox, and I’ve never seen you smile more than you have today. You’ve been lighting up with every story you tell me.”

I feel a smile tug at the corner of my lips as I pull her closer. “Maybe that’s because I like that you’re so interested in hearing about it. You’re trying to learn about what I like, and that’s pretty damn cool.”

“Well, I like getting to know you. You’re a fascinating person.”

I smile and press a kiss on her forehead. Harlow has been the biggest surprise of my life. It’s not just the whole fake relationship thing. She’s surprising me by wanting to actually learn about me. She could’ve learned just enough to fake this successfully, but she’s gone beyond that. She wants to know everything about me.

And in time, I just might let her.

Once Harlow had enough of her history lesson, I suggested we go grab a couple milkshakes. There’s a diner not far from my penthouse that makes the best ones I’ve found in all of Manhattan. Now we’re sat on the patio, two milkshakes in front of us as she nuzzles into my side. She claims it’s because anyone could see us. I’m starting to think, though, that she’s just comfortable around me now. I also think I really like that.

“So, you haven’t really talked to me much about how the blog is doing right now,” I say, sipping my double chocolate milkshake. It’s not really in my diet during the season, but I can make the occasional exception. “How has Starred and Fast been performing?”

“Oh!” she says excitedly. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you about that. My numbers have skyrocketed. My ad revenue for April will be much better than it’s been. Maybe I’ll be able to afford something that’s not a shoebox,” she says as she playfully elbows me in the side.

“Well, I’m glad it’s doing well. You deserve that—the blog is excellent, Lo.”

Harlow looks at me with a sweet smile. “Thank you. I’ve had people in my life before who didn’t support me, so that means more than you know.”

“I’m sorry that they were too blind to see what you’re capable of. You’re amazing at what you do.” And I hope she knows that I genuinely mean that. Harlow has the right kind of attitude to do anything she wants and be great at it. I’m finding that I really enjoy her spirit.

“You know,” she says, locking her eyes onto mine, “when you brought coffee over that day, you told me you weren’t sweet, that you were just a colossal dick in the morning. Your words, not mine.” I laugh heartily. “But you were wrong.”

I eye her suspiciously. “Am I not a colossal dick in the mornings?”

“Not that I’ve noticed. You were quite pleasant this morning. But that’s not what I meant. You’re actually really sweet, Knox. More so than I expected you to be.”

“I’m usually not,” I admit. “That seems to be the case only with you, Harlow.”

“I must be pretty special then.”

I rest my elbow on the table and prop my head up with my knuckles. “Maybe you are,” I say.

We stay like this for a few moments, staring at each other with smiles etched onto our faces. And then we hear the click of a camera. We’re broken out of our reverie but remain in the same positions.

“Well, I’m betting that picture will really sell this whole thing,” Harlow says as she breaks the silence.

“Oh?”

“Oh yeah. You staring all lovingly into my eyes like that? The tabloids are all going to talk about how Knox Spencer is down bad for Cole Pierce’s little sister.”

“That would definitely help with this whole charade,” I say. “But I know of something else that would help, too.”

“Mmm,” she replies amusingly. “Now, what could that possibly be?”

“I think you know, Freckles,” I say before leaning down and pressing my lips to hers—her soft, luscious lips—the lips I haven’t been able to forget since I first kissed her after my no-hitter.

Do I really believe kissing her now will sell this relationship?

Yes.

Is that why I suggested it?

Not entirely.

Today has been nice. Harlow and I have been getting closer since the away trip started in Atlanta, but today is the first time we’ve really been able to spend time together without a game or travel interrupting us. And all this time spent together today had me aching to kiss her again. Why? I’m not entirely sure. But I do know that she is quickly becoming very important to me.

We part after a few more soft kisses. “That, uh… that should convince them,” she says, uncertainty in her tone. She seems to be affected by the kiss the same way I am.

“Yeah, that should do it,” I say hesitantly. “You’re not a terrible kisser, so we should be able to sell it.”

Harlow pushes me teasingly. “Not terrible? I’m appalled, Spencer. I’m much better than not terrible.”

“Hmm,” I say, pretending to think. “I guess I could take it a step up and say you’re a decent kisser.”

“You fucking suck,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her strawberry milkshake.

“And you fake love me anyway,” I reply with a wink, earning a head shake from Harlow.

“Are you gonna eat that cherry, Slick?” she asks, pointing directly at my milkshake. “It’s just sitting there, tempting me.”

“Nah, I’m not big on cherries. You want it?” She nods. Instead of sliding my glass over to her so she can grab the cherry, I pluck it from the whipped cream myself and bring it over to her lips. And she bites it from the stem.

I feel my dick stiffen against my jeans as she makes an O with her lips when she takes the cherry, leaving me wondering how those lips would look wrapped around my cock. Wondering if Harlow would moan like she did as she sipped that coffee if she was underneath me.

I should not be thinking about her like this. This isn’t a real relationship, and she’s my friend’s sister. Even thinking about crossing that line is a bad idea. But I can play the thought in my head as I take another goddamn shower when I get back to my place later.

I won’t deny that I’m attracted to Harlow. God, I have been since I first saw her. Now that she’s a friend, that attraction isn’t just physical—she’s incredible. But that doesn’t mean I don’t physically want her because I really fucking want her. Doesn’t mean I get her, though. I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing now, pushing all those thoughts down.

Even if she smiles at me the way she does, teases me the way she does, ogles me the way she does .

…

I’m so fucked.