Page 47

forty-six

Knox

In the two weeks after my injury, I was released from my crutches and started physical therapy. I’m able to tolerate more and more activity again, but Harlow is still making sure I rest and elevate my leg as well.

Harlow is the greatest blessing during this. It would be easy for me to slip back into my self-loathing tendencies, but she’s with me, brightening everything up. It’s hard not to be optimistic when the poster child for happiness is prancing around your penthouse.

Any awkwardness and tension between us has all but dissipated. We talk frequently now, both deep conversations and completely meaningless ones. They’re all just as interesting because I hang on to every word she says.

Am I in deep?

Yeah, deeper than I ever fucking realized.

I knew before that I loved spending time with Harlow, but having her around twenty-four/seven for the past two weeks has shown me how much.

My recovery is going really well so far, and I may be able to return to the baseball field in another week or two. And since she’s only staying with me while I recover, I’m not as thrilled about that as I should be. I can’t wait to return to the field, but I also don’t want Harlow to leave.

Bit of a catch-22, honestly.

I finally convinced her that I was well enough to be alone for a few hours so she could grab dinner with the girls. The Stars had an early afternoon game today, so they’re free, and she should be seeing people other than just me and my physical therapist right now.

I spend the time while she’s away relaxing and elevating my leg.

Okay, that’s partially true.

I am elevating my leg, but there is no relaxation. I’m currently just sitting here, wondering what Harlow’s talking about with Lucia, Rory, and Ella. Is she talking about me? If she is, is she saying good things?

I guess that’s where I am now, so consumed by someone that I had a temporarily fraught relationship with that I can’t focus on anything other than what she might be saying about me.

God, I sound pathetic.

But the strangest part is that I don’t even hate it.

I can’t remember ever being this fucking happy before. I’ll take the pathetic feelings if it means I’m actually enjoying my life, not just getting by.

The sound of my door opening grabs my attention, and my eyes remain fixed on that spot as Harlow walks inside.

“Hey, Knox,” she says sweetly. “I brought something back for you.”

“Consider my curiosity piqued,” I say, slowly getting off of the couch. “What do you have there, Harlow?”

I limp my way into the kitchen to find a white box on the marble countertop. “Open up the box and see,” she says brightly.

I pull the lid of the box back and peer at the dessert sitting inside. “Chocolate cheesecake?” I ask.

“Mhmm. I stopped by your favorite diner on my way back and grabbed it. Thought you might enjoy something sweet since the past couple of weeks have been pretty shitty to you.”

“It’s probably not been as shitty as you think,” I say with a soft smile. “I’ve had some pretty good company.”

Her blush is unmistakable. Even after everything, my words still mean enough for her to believe them.

“It’s not been too bad from my end either,” she says.

I slide myself carefully onto the counter as Harlow grabs two forks and joins me. Taking one fork from her, I say, “Thank you for this, Lo.”

“I know how much you want to get back on the field, so I just wanted to help you find a bright spot in this shitty situation.” Her words are so genuine, laced with sincerity.

“Harlow,” I say, catching her eyes with mine. “ You are the bright spot in all of this. I’ll take the cheesecake, but it doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

“Oh,” she says softly, blushing again. “I’m glad I can brighten things up for you then.”

The air is charged, coursing with the electricity flowing between us. All I want right now is to kiss her, but I shouldn’t. We’re just getting back to normal. I can’t take us backward again.

In an effort to prevent myself from doing something foolish, I shove my fork into the cheesecake and bring a bite to her lips.

“Mmmm…” she moans.

This may not have been my wisest decision because now I’m thinking of the times she made similar sounds.

Okay, think of something disgusting to take your mind off Harlow’s moaning.

Moldy sandwiches.

Dirty diapers.

Naked grandmas.

I wince. That did the trick.

“You alright, Knox?” Harlow asks, eyeing me curiously.

“Oh... yeah,” I reply uneasily, not wanting to divulge both the sinful and the disgusting thoughts running through my head right now. “I’m totally good.”

“Whatever you say, Slick,” she smirks.

“What’s that face for, Freckles? You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Not at all,” she laughs. “You were staring off into space when you suddenly looked repulsed. You were thinking about something.”

“Believe me,” I say. “You don’t want to know.”

“Fine,” she relents. “What did you get up to while I was out?”

“I sat on the couch and elevated my leg,” I say. “I live a fascinating life, you see.”

“Thrilling,” she replies with a smile. “But your leg is doing so much better. How’s the bruising?”

“It’s fading. Still there, but my thigh is finally no longer black and blue, so I’m considering it a win.”

She laughs, the sweet sound echoing off the walls of my kitchen. “A win is a win.”

A win is definitely a win, and Harlow enjoying my presence again is the biggest win of all. “Definitely,” I say as I finally stick my fork in the cheesecake and take a bite for myself. “Fuck, this is good.”

“It’s chocolate cheesecake,” she says in a ‘no shit’ tone. “Of course, it’s good.”

“So, you like chocolate cheesecake in addition to French toast, onion rings, and pad see ew. I’ll add it to my mental list.”

Harlow looks at me in surprise. “You’re keeping track of the foods I enjoy?”

“I keep track of everything you do, Lo,” I admit. “You’re very captivating, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know that.” The look on her face is so sweet and sincere. “I appreciate that.”

“You really like sweet words, don’t you?”

“Words of Affirmation is my love language,” she shrugs. “Words go a long way for me. That’s why I would take everything Derek said to heart.”

I look at her, confused. “What do you mean that’s your love language?”

“Of course, you don’t know the love languages,” she says, shaking her head. “There are five love languages—Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, and Physical Touch. Words build me up, so my love language is Words of Affirmation.”

I never thought I’d find myself interested in something like this. I previously would have said this was pointless. But it seems to bring her joy, and that brings me joy.

I grab my phone and pull up the list Harlow is referencing. After reviewing the different types, I say, “I’m definitely Acts of Service then. Someone doing something small has always meant a lot to me.”

“Like bringing home a chocolate cheesecake.”

“Especially if they bring home a chocolate cheesecake.”

“Lucky me then.”

“Not as lucky as me, Harlow.”

My response is involuntary, but I mean it all the same. I feel so damn lucky to have her sitting beside me right now. She knows everything about me, and here she still is.

I’ve already let her in. What harm would there be in letting her get even closer?

One step at a time, though.

“So,” I say, severing the silence. “Any recent articles on your ?”

“Just stats and game recaps right now,” she replies. “I posted my interview with Cole a couple weeks ago, and I haven’t had a chance to interview anyone else since I’ve been helping you.”

“Who do you want to interview?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I haven’t given it much thought since I’ve been busy.”

Before I can really think about it, I say, “Interview me then.”

Harlow looks at me incredulously. “You want me to interview you, the man notorious for sharing nothing with any form of media?”

“Why not?” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “I trust you.”

“Thank you for trusting me then, Knox.”

She looks at me now with endless affection, and I can feel my heart swell.

I’m falling headfirst without a safety net, but I’ve never felt more at ease in my life.

“You know,” she says, “when this season started, I told Lucia my goal was to get you to do an interview for my blog by the end of the season.”

“Seriously?” I say with a chuckle.

“Scout’s honor,” Harlow replies. “That’s why I came up to talk to you after the season opener. I wanted to be friendlier with you so you’d know you could trust me. I didn’t want you to think I was just another tabloid.”

“That’s what set off this whole chain of events, Lo.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simon saw you talking to me after that game, and that was right after he told me I need a better image to get the Axis contract. He saw us together, so he devised this whole scheme. That conversation is how you became my fake girlfriend.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “Really? One of the only times I talked to you, and Simon already started scheming.”

“I’m glad he was there to see it,” I say.

“Because now that Axis contract is all but certain, huh?” She looks at me with certainty.

“I keep forgetting about the damn contract,” I laugh. “I’m glad he was there because now I know you . You’re way better than a contract, Harlow.”

“But the whole reason we did this is for your contract, Knox,” she says, surprised.

“Fuck the contract. If I ever had to choose, I’d pick you every time, Harlow. Every damn time . ”

She stares at me, breathless, with her signature blush crossing her cheeks. “I’m really glad I know you, too.”

The light in her eyes helps me forget about everything that’s happened.

There’s no Emily in the back of my mind.

There’s no fear or uncertainty about what could be.

There’s no lying to myself, saying this is fake when it’s the most real thing I’ve ever felt.

Harlow is my reality .

And reality seems much brighter now.

“So, Freckles. What questions you got for me?”