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twenty-five

Knox

“I still can’t believe you bought all three of our dresses, Knox,” Harlow says from her perch on my kitchen island, sipping from her mug of coffee. She’s expressed the same sentiment at least a dozen times since we returned to my penthouse last night.

“I still can’t believe that you can’t believe it,” I say with a smirk. “Rana Dagon is an expensive designer, Lo. I had no intention of letting any of you pay for your own dresses yesterday.” I take a sip of coffee from my own mug. “You really struggle to let people help you with things, don’t you?”

Harlow sighs as I set my mug down and lift myself up to join her on the island. “Yeah. Part of trying to be all self-sufficient, I guess.”

“You can still be self-sufficient if you let people help you sometimes, Lo.”

“Big talk from the man that only recently let someone into his life.”

I chuckle. “Those aren’t even comparable, Freckles. They’re not nearly the same thing.” She shrugs and takes another sip of coffee.

“I should head out,” she says, jumping off the counter. “You have practice soon anyway.”

I hate the idea of her leaving. I’ve grown so accustomed to spending time with her that I think I’d prefer she’s always around. It doesn’t make sense since none of this is real, but I’ll just shrug that off for now. “I’ll see you at the game tonight then, Lo,” is what I say in response.

Harlow grabs her bag and heads out the door. I let out a breath as I scrub a hand over my face. Why am I starting to feel like this? Why do I suddenly care when she’s not around? Why can’t I get the image of her in that dress yesterday out of my mind no matter how many times I take a damn shower?

I’m brought out of my thoughts by my phone vibrating on the counter next to me. Simon’s calling.

I grab the phone and bring it up to my ear. “Hey, Simon. What’s up?”

“I think that’s the nicest greeting I’ve ever gotten from you, Knox,” he says from the other line, and I just roll my eyes. As irritating as it is, though, I owe Simon my entire career. I wouldn’t be where I am if he weren’t there for me with Emily.

“Yeah, according to the media, I’m evidently a nice guy now.”

“Which is precisely why I’m calling. In just two months, your public perception has massively increased—more than we could have expected, truthfully. You and Harlow are working together well—everyone is talking about you two.”

“I know,” I say with a slight sigh. “I constantly see cameras when we’re out.”

“And everything looks believable. I assume her blog is doing well?” Simon asks.

“Yeah, it’s really great, actually,” I reply enthusiastically. “The traffic to Starred and Fast has taken off. She’s bringing in more from ad revenue than ever before.”

“Wonderful,” he says, not quite dismissively but in a way that suggests he was only asking about her because he felt somewhat obligated to do so. “Now for Axis.”

I let out a breath. “Have you heard from them?” I ask hesitantly.

“I spoke to one of the execs last night. Axis loves what they’re seeing. Your image is improving, and if you keep it up, Axis has every intention of extending that contract at the end of the season.”

“That’s great!” I reply happily. The contract is technically the reason we’re doing this whole fake relationship. But I’d be remiss to admit that I all but forgot about that entirely.

“Keep up the show, Knox. Everything is going according to plan,” Simon says before saying his goodbyes and disconnecting the call.

Keep up the show .

The more time I spend with Harlow, the more this doesn’t feel like a show. I genuinely enjoy her company. I like having her around.

In what kind of way?

Well, that I’m not entirely sure of yet…

Strength training this morning could have been better. I’m so unfocused right now; my mind is racing with thoughts of Harlow and what I should and shouldn’t be doing. I need to clear my fucking head before I pitch a god-awful game tonight.

When the rest of the guys leave the clubhouse for practice, I stay behind for a moment to calm my mind.

It’s not going well.

The clubhouse door swings open, and Lane walks in. “Thought I’d find you here,” he says. “Skip wanted me to find you so you can get your ass to practice.”

I let out a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ll be out soon. Just need a minute to myself.”

“Everything okay?” Lane asks, crossing the room to join me on the sofa.

“I have no fucking idea,” I admit.

“Things still going well with Harlow?”

“Yeah, that’s all going exactly to plan,” I say. “Her blog is doing great, and according to Simon, Axis is pleased with my image right now. It’s just…” I start but trail off, unsure of where that sentence is leading.

“It’s not going the way you thought it would.”

I sigh. “Yeah,” I confess. “Everything feels so… different.”

“In what way?” Lane asks, cocking an eyebrow. I shove his shoulder before I groan, giving in to the temptation to talk about it. Maybe that’ll help me clear my head.

“I like having her around,” I start. “I feel like I’m actually getting close to her, which is something I never expected. But…” I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair as Lane continues eyeing me, waiting for me to admit what he knows I’m going to say. “But I want her, man.”

“About fucking time you admit it,” Lane says with a laugh. “I’ve been telling you all season that you would.”

“I shouldn’t want her, though,” I say. “This is all fake. Sleeping with Harlow would probably fuck everything up.”

“But maybe it won’t,” he says with a shrug. “If she wants it too, then I don’t see a problem with it.”

“Well, she’s Cole’s little sister, for starters.”

Lane rolls his eyes. “She’s fucking twenty-five, man. Don’t act like she’s a child. She’s Cole’s younger sister, not little.“ I rest my head against the back of the sofa. “You’re both adults. Cole won’t want details, but he’s not going to give you shit if you sleep with her. He’s never been that kind of guy.”

“I know,” I sigh. “But how can I even be sure she wants it? It’s not like I can just point to my room and say, ‘Wanna fuck?’”

“Jesus, it’s not been that long since you’ve had sex, man. You know how to tell if she wants it.” I eye him. “Body language. It’s all in her body language. Read that, and you’ll know what to do.”

“It still could be a terrible idea,” I sigh.

“Maybe. But it’s just sex, dude. As long as things are as fake as you two say they are, that shouldn’t complicate anything.”

He’s right. If that’s all true, it shouldn’t cause any issues or rifts. But is everything as fake as we say? It doesn’t seem like more, but I also know that I don’t like it when she’s not around.

I’m just going to hold on to the hope that we’re correct in how fake all of this is. Every day is a battle with myself to not go for Harlow, no matter how badly I want her. And from what she admitted when she was drunk, I’m pretty sure she wants me, too.

I stayed on the field to practice longer today to make up for the time I missed while talking to Lane. Because of that, I don’t see Harlow outside the clubhouse like usual. Instead, as soon as we take to the field to prep for the game, I find her right where she told me she’d be tonight—front row, right off the first baseline where her season tickets are, with Lucia and Rory holding Sage on either side of her.

I jog over to meet them before I throw some warm-up pitches with Scholl. “Hey, you,” I say as I approach her. I like that she sits here because the seats are just above field level—when she stands, she’s eye to eye with me.

“Hey, Fort,” she says. “Ready for your game tonight?”

“I am now,” I reply, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. “Media seems to think you’re a good luck charm.”

Harlow laughs. “You were already the best pitcher in the league. You don’t need a good luck charm.”

“Maybe not.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “But I certainly don’t mind looking at this good luck charm all night.”

“You flirting with me again, Knox?” she says slyly.

“I thought I was being more obvious about it this time. But if you need me to tell you explicitly,” I reply, leaning my lips to her ear. “I flirt with you every chance I get, Lo.”

I feel the shiver run down her body, reacting to my breath on her ear. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve been trying to get your attention, huh?”

I lean back now and look at her, leaving my arm around her waist. “You’ve had my attention longer than you realize then,” I admit.

“So, it’s not the jersey that does it for you?” she asks with a smile.

“Oh, that doesn’t hurt at all. You look fucking good with my name on your back, Lo.”

“I don’t know,” she teases. “I’m a Pierce. I always thought that one looked good.”

“You look better with Spencer,” I say, putting a finger to her chin and finding her eyes with mine. “I like it. A lot.”

Harlow’s breath is uneven now… just like mine. This became more intense than I expected. Now I hear Scholl calling for me, so I know I need to head over.

“I’m being called upon,” I say.

“You are,” she replies before adding, “But there’s still cameras all around us.”

“If you want a kiss, you can just ask.” We both smile before I lean in, capturing her lips with mine. I’m enjoying myself a bit too much, but I have to break away so this doesn’t go too far.

Once we part, I notice the blush across Harlow’s cheeks. I really like the effect I seem to have on her. “Good luck,” she says finally.

“Good luck to you, too,” I reply as she gives me a curious look. “Lucia and Rory have been watching this entire interaction. You’re fucked.”

She groans. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” I laugh, jogging backward to meet up with Scholl and get ready for the game. Once I see Harlow take her seat, I turn around and head to the mound, a smile on my face. I don’t need a good luck charm, but I sure as fuck like having one anyway.

“Cheers!” Harlow says, clinking her beer against Lucia’s, Rory’s, and Ella’s, and the glasses of water Cole, Josh, and I have. I only gave up one run tonight, and Cole hit a three-run homer, so the girls talked us into going out tonight. None of us guys are drinking because we have a game tomorrow, and Lane didn’t join us since he needed to get Sage home. I’m only slightly jealous of him at the moment.

“How are you guys feeling right now?” Rory asks, looking at Cole and me. But I don’t need to respond when Cole quickly jumps in.

“Pretty good. Tonight was a great game,” he replies.

“I bet you do think so,” Rory says. “You batted in three runs yourself, Cole.”

“You keeping track, Fisher?” Cole asks, raising a brow.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she says, waving him off. “The scoreboard kept track for me.” Cole laughs that off, but it almost seems… forced?

“Knox had a damn good game, too,” Harlow pipes in. “Only gave up one run.”

“All that flirting before the game was good for him, it seems,” Lucia says with a smirk.

That grabbed Cole’s attention. “You were flirting with my sister?”

“Dude, he’s dating your sister,” Josh remarks. “Of course, he flirts with her.”

“I always see them flirting,” Ella adds.

“Sold out by our own friends,” I say, looking right at Harlow.

“Can’t hide anything,” she smiles.

This whole arrangement is fake, but our flirting is very real.

“I don’t want to hear about them flirting,” Cole grumbles as our friends turn their attention to him now, leaving Harlow and me to ourselves.

“You know,” she says, a sly look on her face. A look that I’ve learned means she’s about to give me shit about something. “You did have a great game, but that slider in the fifth. What were you thinking?”

“You criticizing my performance, Freckles?”

“I run a blog, Slick,” she replies with a smirk. “Writing about the games is a large part of my job. Interviews, too, but I still haven’t been able to sell you or Cole on the idea yet.”

“I don’t think my performance was all that bad,” I say, smirking back.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she fires back, tension filling the air.

I don’t think we’re talking about the game anymore.

“Fucking hell,” Cole says in exasperation. “Stop making eyes at each other, will you?”

That seems to snap Harlow out of… whatever this was. “I, uh… I’m going to run to the restroom really quick. I’ll be right back.” She scurries away from the table, moving faster than I realized she could.

Lucia and Rory are both giving me knowing looks. I need to escape this, too. “I’m gonna… go grab another water,” I say as I stand up from the table, heading off in the opposite direction of the bar.

“Your water is practically full,” Josh shouts, and I just ignore it. Because I need to talk to Harlow.

Should I be waiting for her in the hallway outside of the bathroom door? No, I’m sure I shouldn’t, but here I am anyway.

After a couple of minutes, she walks into the hall, stopping when she sees me leaning against the wall. “Oh… hey, Knox,” she says, voice wavering.

“You really think my performance was bad?” I ask, inviting her to come closer.

She closes the gap. “I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t think I know much about your performance.”

I flip her around, pinning her against the wall with hands planted on either side of her head. “You’ve been watching me pitch for years, Lo.” I smirk and press my forehead against hers. “You should know all about my performance, shouldn’t you?”

“Maybe I need to learn more,” she challenges, shaking off any unease or nervousness she’s feeling.

“I’m not sure there is anything more for you to learn.” I instinctively grind my hips into hers, searching for any friction. Harlow gasps when she feels how fucking hard I am in the middle of the damn bar, wearing those gray sweatpants she likes so much.

“I’m sure there are things you could teach me,” she says in a low tone.

So fucking seductive .

“Harlow…” My lips brush against hers.

“Knox…” she says, pressing her body tight against mine.

Body language. This is what Lane was saying earlier. I can see how much she wants me right now. I could lead her out of here, take her back to my penthouse, and fuck her all night, and she wouldn’t protest. She wants me to do that.

But I’m still not sure that’s a good idea. I don’t want to fuck things up between us. We’re getting along well. Really well. I want to ensure I keep her in my life when we end this whole arrangement. Sex could ruin all of that. We could lose all the progress we’ve made.

I can’t risk it…

“We, uh…” I stammer, peeling my body off of hers. “We should head back to the table before they start wondering where we are.”

“Right,” she says, looking dejected and a bit embarrassed. She removes herself from under my arms and pads off down the hallway.

I scrub a hand over myself, wondering what the fuck I was thinking coming over here in the first place. I all but invited her to tell me how much she wants me… and then I fucking stopped it from going further. Now I’m left with a goddamn hard-on in the middle of a busy bar.

I need to get a grip on myself. She’s just a woman. An insanely attractive woman whose company I happen to thoroughly enjoy.But still, just a woman.

But she’s not just a woman, is she?

No, she’s the one woman I never thought would be able to get through to me. Now, I seek her out at every game. I see her every day. I go to fucking dive bars just because she wants to go.

So no, she’s not just a woman. She’s Harlow . The woman whose attention I crave more than anything.

Fuck me.