Page 37 of Dirty Player

Every time I find myself thinkingwhat if,I remind myself of that moment I found her with Colby.

I saw him once, after they ended, which was a short fling, so it appears. What a fucking waste. Or a lucky break. I just don’t know. All he said was, “We cool, man? You know it was nothing, right?”

Great.

The woman I loved wasnothingto him.

I wanted to punch the guy, but Colby Wade was one of the most respected footballers of our time. Talk about career limiting and media grabbing idea.

Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, “No, we aren’t cool. She was my girlfriend. I don’t know what happened, but both of you are to blame. So we aren’t cool.”

And I’d walked away.

Because I am Levi Mont-fucking-gomery.

He’d let it go. Mostly because he was on girl number seven hundred or something. Likely didn’t truly give a fuck what I thought.

And I doubt he cared about Kaylee, either.

I was angry on her behalf for some stupid reason.

Now, I wish I hadn’t deleted her messages. Now I want to know what she had to say. What her explanation was.

I can’t ask now.

It’s too late.

Way too late.

And I don’t want her to read into anything.

Yesterday at work, there were no tables left in the café and our eyes met. Before I could stop myself, I kicked the chair out and motioned with my eyes for her to sit.

“You okay with this?” she asked, dropping her salad down and sitting.

“Sure. How’s the job going?” I asked.

“Good.” She glanced at me from under hooded eyes. “Except this one guy.”

I blinked.

Was she really about to tell me about her love life?

“He hates me.”

Oh, right. She’d been talking about me. The softness in her voice had wrapped around me like a cotton blanket.

“He doesn’t hate you,” I admitted.

He hates what you did, but he could never hate you.

Payton plonks down across from me and picks up her glass. “So this Kaylee. She was your first real girlfriend right? Love. Whatever. Of course, it was a big deal then, but I’m sure you’re over it, and your brothers can get off your back.”

I smile, even though I want to tell her I’m not over Kaylee and ask how the hell I get to that place.

Howdo youfucking get over someone?

Knox sits down next to her and hands the baby over. I note he’s wearing dress pants—no doubt Tom Ford or Armani—and decide whether to hassle him about it.

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