Page 2 of Dirty Player

Anyway, she’s at Penn State on a scholarship and I’m fucking proud of her.

“Hopefully.” I wink at her, and someone bumps my arm, spilling some of my beer down my Armani shirt.

“Shit, sorry Levi.” The guy says as Kaylee wipes her hand over my chest.

Can’t say I am. If it gets my girl's hands on me, then hell, I’ll pour my drink down the front of me.

“Keep doing that.” I purr, and she smiles up at me with what looks like innocent eyes.

She’s not.

It’s a sexy little act.

One I love.

Let’s just say I’m pretty dominant and her submissive side gets me hard in seconds. Outside the bedroom, she’s a smart and beautiful woman.

This is our last year at Penn State, and if I get drafted, I’m going pro. I don’t have a plan B—which my father has brought up from time to time—but I’m confident.

You have to be.

Playing at this level, you have to kick doubt to the curb and have a strong mindset. Reminding yourself that you’re fucking amazing is a daily chore. Even if it does sound narcissistic.

But that’s how I’ll become one of these men.

A quarterback for the Philadelphia Hawkes.

Jackson says a few more things, and the room erupts into “Happy Birthday.” Then he points to the back of the room where I’m standing.

“Hey everyone, give it up for my boy, Levi. He’s gonna join the team this year.”

Damn.

I lift my beer humbly and shake my head. “Don’t fucking curse me, Jackson.”

The six-foot-seven Black man roars with laughter. “Keep your nose clean and keep winning those games, Montgomery, then you’ll be wearing the green jersey next.”

I hope so.

I’m not going to starve obviously, but I don’t want to fail. Montgomery’s don’t fail.

Like my brothers and half-sister Bella, I have a trust fund and inheritance from our mother, who passed a few years ago.

When you don’t have to count your pennies, what you do in life is more about purpose. That’s what my father told me, and he’s right. I need to do something that is meaningful to me, and then one day, something that can contribute to the world.

I don’t know what that is.

First, I want to prove I’m good enough to be in the NFL.

Jackson jumps down, and the party kicks back into action. The music goes up and Kaylee turns to talk to one of the girls.

I drop my hand from her hip when one of the players from another team, Jimmy Gage, walks over and asks, “So how’s the year going?”

“Good. Only lost one game. A strong season,” I reply as my eyes dip to Kaylee’s cute ass.

She’s wearing denim shorts which she somehow dressed up with a pair of red Nikes, a red tube top, and white cropped jacket.

Sexy as fuck.

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