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twenty-four

Knox

After our ten-game road trip 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 much better . 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.

As long as we’re faking this relationship, I’ll be the one to do that for her.

After practice, I go back to my penthouse to find something more presentable to wear. Athletic clothing probably isn’t the correct attire for where we’re heading. I throw on a short-sleeved black Henley top and a pair of dark jeans and then head to the garage to grab my car before texting Harlow that I’m coming to pick her up.

When I pull up in front of her building, I find her waiting out front for me… and several people with cameras waiting in the bushes across the street. Fucking ridiculous. But I’m not about to be seen as less than chivalrous.

I hop out of my Maserati and walk over to greet her. “Hey there, Lo,” I say before leaning down and kissing her softly. So fucking dangerous because now I want more.

Harlow’s lips still brushing against mine, she asks, “Cameras?”

“There’s always cameras,” I tell her as I wrap my arm around her shoulder and lead her to my car. I open up the passenger door and help her into her seat as she just smiles at me.

Once I walk around and jump into the driver seat again, she looks at me and says, “You know, for a fake boyfriend, I think you’re better than any of the actual boyfriends I’ve had.”

“Like I said before, you were with shitty men.”

“Are you not a shitty man then, Knox?” she asks with a smile.

“I have my moments,” I reply honestly, returning her smile. “But I like to think I’m not so shitty with you.”

“You’re not,” she says as I pull out onto the street before she adds in a lower voice, “You’re so much better.”

My heart swells. Or it feels like it did. Regardless, such a small comment like that shouldn’t do this to me, right?

But she just told me I’m so much better than anyone she’s been with. It’s hard not to take that for truth when Harlow doesn’t say anything she doesn’t mean. I’m a lucky son of a bitch because I’m pretty sure I hit the fake girlfriend jackpot.

“So,” she says, taking me out of my thoughts. “You never did tell me where we’re going today.”

“All you need to know is that you’re shopping for your dress for the charity dinner. You’ll find out where we’re going when we get there,” I reply coyly.

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “You’re so damn lucky I like surprises, Slick.”

“I do consider myself lucky,” I say honestly, and I hear her breath catch in her throat. She caught on to my double meaning there, just like I thought she would. She makes it difficult to not be completely honest, though, so I just spill what I’m thinking. That’ll probably bite me in the ass at some point, but so far, it’s going well.

She’s quiet as I weave in and out of traffic on our way to midtown Manhattan. Maybe my honesty was a bit too much. Or maybe she’s mulling it over, figuring out what she thinks about it.

Either way, her train of thought is broken as we finally reach our destination. Lucia and Rory are both waiting for us outside of the building.

“Knox,” she says with excitement. “You did not!”

I smile. “I did.”

“This is Rana Dagon’s studio.”

“It is,” I say with a light laugh.

“I love Rana Dagon’s designs.”

“Lo, that’s exactly why we’re here. You mentioned how much you like her designs, so I figured this would be the perfect place to find your dress.”

“How did you even get an appointment?” she asks, turning to me. “Her waitlist is years long.”

“Harlow, I’m arguably the best pitcher in the league. And if you were unaware, Rana happens to be a massive Stars fan. I pulled a few strings, and here we are. She’s waiting inside to help you three find your dresses for the dinner.”

Before I can process what’s happening, Harlow leans across the seat and pecks my lips. “Thank you, Knox,” she says, smiling sweetly as she exits the car to meet Lucia and Rory.

I’m left in my thoughts for a moment, running my thumb over my bottom lip, where the feel of her kiss still lingers.

“Ah, please come in!” Rana says as she ushers us inside. “I’m thrilled to finally have a Stars player here, though I never expected the first one to be Fort Knox.”

“Yeah,” I say, rubbing my neck. “Surprised me, too.”

Rana laughs as she takes note of Harlow. “Ah, here’s the one to thank for the demeanor change. You must be Harlow Pierce.”

Harlow slowly reaches her hand out to take the one Rana is extending and shakes. “Uh, yeah. I’m Harlow.” Her voice is shaky. The ever-confident Harlow is starstruck and nervous right now.

“Your blog is phenomenal,” Rana says. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”

“You- you’ve read my blog?” She asks with stars in her eyes.

“Yes, dear,” Rana says with a light laugh. “Now, why don’t you all follow me so we can discuss and find the perfect gowns for you.” Rana throws an arm around Harlow’s shoulder, leading her, Lucia, and Rory away.

Lo looks back at me and mouths Oh my God, causing me to laugh as I start after them.

Rana leads us all into what looks to be a consultation area, fitted with two blue velvet sofas and a dark wood table across from a matching blue velvet chair. Harlow and I take our seats on one sofa, Lucia and Rory take the other, and Rana takes the chair.

“Okay, ladies. Let’s talk about styles, colors, everything. I’ll start at the end here. You’re Paul Fisher’s daughter, Rory, right?” Rana asks as she turns to face Rory.

“Yes,” she replies, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Not quite the same fitness as my dad, though.”

Rana waves her off. “Not to worry, darling. I’m confident I have something here that will complement you well. You have quite a beautiful complexion.”

“Perks of being biracial, I guess,” Rory says.

Rana says, “An olive green would suit you beautifully, Rory. How do you plan to wear your hair for this event? Your curls are absolutely stunning, but the best neckline for you will depend on how you style your hair.”

“I usually pull it up.”

“A V-neckline then. I have the perfect dress for you.” Rana turns her attention now to Lucia. “You are Lucia? I believe that’s what Knox told me when he set this up.” Lucia nods. “What olive complexion do you have, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Spanish,” Lucia replies. “My parents are from Spain, along the Mediterranean.”

“I think a cherry red would be perfect for you, Lucia. Something strapless. I have something I think you’ll love.” Rana now turns to Harlow. “Now for Harlow. Your skin is relatively fair.”

“Oh yes,” she laughs. “I always need to go heavy on the SPF if I don’t want to burn.”

“A pastel blue for you. It will complement your skin and bring out the blue of your eyes. I have a few necklines that might suit you, but I love the idea of you in a plunging neckline.”

Yeah, I think I like the idea of that, too.

“I can’t wait to see what you pick then.”

Rana stands up. “Okay, ladies,” she says, clapping her hands together. “Why don’t you head to the fitting area, and I’ll pull some options for you?”

We make our way to the fitting area as Rana spends a few minutes grabbing dresses from her stock. When she comes over, she disperses the gowns amongst Harlow, Lucia, and Rory, and they disappear to try them on.

Is it wrong that I’m not paying attention at all to what Lucia and Rory are wearing because I’m so focused on Harlow? The three women all come out to see what the others are wearing and comment on how it looks and fits, but whenever they’re in front of me, I only look at Harlow. She’s tried on two gowns so far, both light blue. I thought they looked great and told her so, but Lucia, Rory, and Rana seemed to have differing opinions.

As she goes back in to try on her third option, Rana’s favorite, Rana sits beside me on the sofa outside the changing area. “She’s lovely.”

I smile. “She really is.” And I mean that. Harlow has such a beautiful soul that shines through to everyone she meets. How anyone could find it in themselves to dull that sparkle is unfathomable to me.

“As a Stars fan,” Rana says, “I fully support this pairing. Your pitching has only gotten better since you two went public.”

“Yeah, I guess it has,” I admit. And that’s something I never really thought of, but she’s right. I’ve always been able to maintain a low ERA and a high number of wins, but we’re almost two months into the season now, and I don’t have a single loss. My numbers this year are better than they’ve ever been. Does that actually have anything to do with Harlow, though?

“I can see how much you care about her.” I give her a questioning look. “Hey, you might be Fort Knox to everyone else, but I can read people. And you have hearts in your eyes every time you look at her.”

“Oh,” is all I can manage to say.

Rana chuckles. “She’s looking at you the same way. You make a very sweet couple.”

Couple .

Of course, she thinks we’re a couple. The entire world thinks we’re a couple. Even if we actually aren’t. But that word doesn’t sound as bad as I expected when hearing it from a stranger.

It’s actually sort of… nice.

I hear the curtains in the changing area open. As Harlow steps out, all coherent thought leaves my body.

She stands across from me in a pale blue gown, long enough to touch the ground, with a thigh-high slit and a plunging neckline that hits below her chest.

She is downright stunning .

“What do you think, Knox?” she asks softly with a nervous smile. Does she think she needs my approval for this? I’d give it to her if I could speak right now, but she doesn’t need my approval for anything.

After a few more moments of silence, Rana pipes in, “He’s completely speechless, darling.” She laughs. “This dress was made for you, Harlow!”

“Really?” she asks, her face slightly brighter.

“Yeah,” I manage. “You look incredible, Harlow. Blue is definitely your color.” The blush that spreads across her cheeks is adorable, and I can’t help but smile.

As I hear a few snickers from the side, I’m reminded that Lucia and Rory are indeed still here. And thank God for that because the desire to march Harlow back into that fitting room with me is strong, and I can’t act on that.

“So,” Rana says, severing the silence. “Is this your dress, Harlow?”

“Yeah,” she replies with a smile. “This is the one I want.”

“Perfect!” Rana claps her hands together. “Why don’t you three get changed back and bring your dresses out. We’ll get everything squared away.”

As Harlow, Lucia, and Rory disappear back into their changing areas, I grab my wallet and pull out a black card. “Here,” I say to Rana. “This is all on me.”