Page 6 of Dirty Player

I suppose that was the moment I realized telling her I loved her wasn’t smart. That I needed to wait for her to show me she felt the same.

Dad joined the conversation that day, saying, “Knox is right. He’s just as tactless as a comedian telling knock-knock jokes at a funeral.”

Atlas snorted.

I hadn’t. I wanted to defend her. “Kaylee isn’t like that. She loves the sport as much as me. Hell, she wants to work as a sports physio.”

I thought I’d proven my point, but they both just stared at me.

“Just be careful, Levi,” Dad replied. “You know a lot of women are interested in the players. You aren’t stupid.”

After cooling off and thinking about things, I knew they just needed time to get to know her. We’d only dated for two months.

I figured in another six or twelve months, we’d show them how committed we were. How in love.

What a fool I was.

Now, she’s proven them right.

Thirty minutes later, the mix of alcohol and sweating like a pig dehydrates me. My head throbs and I don’t know if I want to scream or let myself cry.

Goddamn you, Kaylee.

I toss my gloves across the room and stalk back out to the living room. Not learning a thing, I pour myself a few fingers of whisky and press dial.

I don’t know who the fuck I’m ringing. Whoever the last person was. It’s a fifty-fifty gamble between Atlas and Knox.

“What?” Knox answers.

My fucking luck, I got the grumpy brother.

“Wrong number,” I grumble.

“Good try. What’s up?” he insists, and I guess it's due to the late hour that he knows something is wrong.

“Yo! Was the party shit, or are we just more interesting?” Atlas says in the background.

“Oh good. A two-for-one deal.” I rub my head.

“Gonna hang up if you keep being a dick,” Knox warns.

I’m silent for a moment, knowing he wouldn’t hang up.

Actually, he would, but they know me.

Plus, I’d just ring back.

“You were right,” I finally say.

“Clarify,” Knox, the arrogant of a bitch, says as I roll my eyes and flop back on the sofa, wishing the cushions would swallow me up.

“She’s a fucking jersey chaser.” My voice sounds bitter and angry, and I hate it.

I hate that I have to say those words about her.

Silence.

“What happened?” Atlas asks, all humor gone.

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