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seven

Harlow

“This is just so weird, Cole. Don’t you think?”

“Nah, I’m loving this.”

Lucia is still working with a few of the athletes, so I found Cole while waiting for her. I figured he could help me feel better about all of this. Of course, that’s not what’s happening.

“Come on, Cole. This is weird. This feels weird. It’s one of your best friends and your little sister.”

“Okay, first, you’re two years younger than me, Lo. It’s not like you’re eighteen or something. Second, the only weird thing is you wearing a jersey that doesn’t say Pierce on the back.”

“You really don’t find this situation weird?” I ask earnestly. “Your friend and your sister?”

“Lo, you know I’m not the overprotective brother. You’re your own person—I won’t try to control what you do. You’re both adults anyway. And as much as I’ve been giving Knox shit over this, I think it’ll be a good thing. Even if it isn’t real, I think your positivity might just rub off on him. He needs that.”

I let out a deep breath as Lucia found us in the hall, sidling up beside me. “Did you come to Cole for a pep talk, Lo?” she asks, elbowing me in the ribs. Well, she went for the ribs but hit my boob instead since she’s about six inches taller than me.

“I thought he might be nice about something for once. Instead, he’s giving me shit.”

Cole crosses his arms defiantly. “I do believe that last thing I said was nice, Harlow. But quit overthinking this. You guys are going to be fine.”

“Says the man that won’t have to endure the media storm when this all comes out.”

“You really think I won’t have to deal with the media about this? My sister is dating my teammate. My life won’t be nearly as quiet as I like it. I’ve already accepted that, Lo.”

“Shit, I didn’t even think about that,” I say as I bring my palm up to my forehead. “We should’ve talked to you about this first. I’m sor-”

Cole holds up his hand to silence me. “Don’t apologize. I can try to hide all I want, but the reality is that I’m a professional athlete. I’ll never be completely under the radar. I can manage this.”

“What are you still doing out here, Pierce?” Paul’s voice bellows down the hall. “Get your ass out there for warmups.”

“Gotta go,” Cole says before taking off down the hall. “Good luck!”

Lucia and I catch up with Rory and Ella for a few minutes before we grab drinks and find our seats. I’ll be sticking with one beer tonight, no matter how nervous I am. Tomorrow is a travel day, so we’ll be on the plane on our way down to Atlanta for another three-game series starting on Tuesday. Plane rides and hangovers don’t mix.

“These are some great seats,” Lucia says. “Good job, Knox.”

The guys are out on the field prepping for the game. Knox is on the mound throwing out some practice pitches to the Stars catcher Martin Scholl.

Knox’s knuckleballs are on point tonight. Knuckleballs are hard to hit because the ball moves so erratically, but that makes them hard to throw as well. The pitcher and catcher both need to be in complete sync to make it work. Lucky for the Stars, Knox and Martin are very in tune with each other on the field.

That bodes well for tonight’s game. The Stars are going for the sweep of the San Francisco Bulldogs. If they win tonight, they’ll take that adrenaline with them all the way to Atlanta.

After Knox throws out his latest practice pitch, he scans the crowd to find Lucia and me. And he smirks at us. At least, I think he smirked. The pitcher’s mound is pretty far away from us. It’s hard to tell.

“Did he just smile at you, Lo?” Lucia asks happily. “I think he smiled at you!”

“If anything, it was a smirk. Knox doesn’t smile.”

“You can tell yourself whatever you want, Harlow Pierce, but that man just smiled at you.”

“It’s just for show then. This isn’t real,” I whisper to her.

“Mhmm,” is all she says in response.

Once the game starts, the guys are nonstop—hit after hit, run after run. The score is 12-0 at the bottom of the eighth inning.

Knox has given up two walks and no hits in the game so far. His pitch count is pretty good as well—ninety-eight—so he’s still in the game. If he can make it through the ninth inning without giving up a hit, Knox will have the first no-hitter in the league this season and the second no-hitter of his career.

Josh strikes out to end the bottom of the eighth. Now, only three outs stand between the Stars and a no-hitter. The crowd watches with bated breath as Knox makes his way back out to the mound. If he’s nervous, you’d never be able to tell because he looks as collected as he usually does, even though the viewership for this game will be much higher now. No-hitters are rare. Every baseball fan will be tuning in to this game now to watch how this inning unfolds.

The first at-bat of this inning is San Fran’s designated hitter. Knox throws a fastball straight down the middle. Strike one. The next pitch is a changeup, coming in at the corner of the strike zone. The batter swings and misses. Strike two. He throws a knuckleball for the third pitch, the batter again swinging and only hitting air. Strike three.

Only two more outs to go now. The Bulldogs’ first baseman comes up to bat, and Knox attempts another knuckleball.

Like I said before, knuckleballs can be erratic and hard to throw and catch. The volatility of this one means it slams right into the batter’s arm.

Hit by pitch, automatic walk.

Shit .

Since it doesn’t count as a hit, Knox’s no-hitter is still up for grabs. But he may be rattled. There’s a baserunner now, so if the next batter, the Bulldogs shortstop, gets a good hit, he could give up a couple of runs in addition to a hit.

I can see him take a deep breath before raring up again, throwing another fastball right down the middle. The next sound is the crack of the wooden bat as it makes contact with the ball it sends soaring into the outfield. Lane is positioning himself in center field, ready to catch the pop-out. When his glove closes around the ball, the crowd exhales a sigh of relief.

But Lane doesn’t pay attention to us. He sees the baserunner turning on his heel from second base to run back to first. The batter didn’t get the hit, so he can’t advance. Lane guns the ball to Eric Waller at first base, where he is waiting and ready. The runner is just feet away from the base as Waller makes the catch, reaching down for the tag.

The umpire makes the call.

Out.

The crowd erupts into cheers, and Knox’s face is filled with shock. He just pitched the second no-hitter of his career, and he’s only twenty-eight.

As his teammates rush toward him to celebrate, he points at me. Like a this is for you kind of point. That must be what he planned for launching this, us . The man who shows no emotion on the field will create a frenzy by pointing at a woman in the stands. That’s a nice, subtle way to do it.

Lucia’s arms wrap around my shoulders. “Lo, he pointed at you!”

I laugh, unable to contain my excitement about this game. “It’s a good soft launch, don’t you think?” Lucia smiles, and we go back to celebrating with the crowd.

With my back to the field now, I don’t see Knox walking over. It isn’t until the fans around us start going wild that I realize something is happening. I turn around… and find Knox’s eyes focused right on me.

And then realization washes over me. These seats were explicitly picked for us. We’re next to the dugout, but we’re also not behind the netting . He probably doesn’t realize my season ticket seats are open like this, and he wanted to make sure he could reach me.

Knox walks up to me, eye to eye since I’m in the raised seating, and wraps an arm around my waist. He leans forward, giving me a gentle hug.

As he pulls away, he whispers, “Ready for this, Pierce?” and without a moment’s hesitation, his lips meet mine.

Knox is kissing me . In front of tens of thousands of fans. In front of millions of viewers watching at home, having tuned in to see the completion of a no-hitter.

The surprise washes away, and I quickly return the kiss, throwing my arms around his shoulders and bringing him closer.

At that moment, the outside world ceases to exist. It’s just us. It’s just this moment. And I have only one thought.

Knox Spencer is a damn good kisser .