Page 1 of Dirty Player

PROLOGUE

LEVI

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Jackson Billows holds up his hands, laughing as his dark braids hang around his shoulders, almost covering his ice.

Ice, as in diamonds.

He has at least three chains draping from his neck and is sparkling like Marilyn fucking Monroe.

One could call him an actor, the way he dances around the field during an NFL game. He’s a show pony for sure, but Philadelphia loves him—hell, America loves the fifty-million-dollar-a-year Hawkes player.

Philadelphia Hawkes, that is.

The team I hope to play for one day.

Next year, if I’m being exact.

I don’t care about the money. I’m already a billionaire in my own right because of my family. I’m the son of Ward Montgomery—of Montgomery Enterprises and the luxury fashion label Verity & Co.—but it’s the game I love.

I’m currently a star quarterback at Penn State and in the spotlight for this year’s draft.

“Okay, okay.” Jackson laughs, trying to quiet the room with the waving of his hands, while I lean my hip against the sofa, beer in my hand and my other arm around my girl.

Kaylee Rose.

“Thank you all for coming. Don’t go thinking because I’m twenty-nine now, this is my last year.” He laughs.

The room is filled with players and guests who chuckle along with him.

“Getting old there, J?” someone yells out.

I smirk, sipping my beer. I’m probably the only college football player here, but that’s not because I’mhopefullygoing to be drafted.

I met Jackson at some famous movie star’s party over a year ago. I think one of my brothers, Knox or Atlas, was initially invited, but you know what society is like. It’s a surname or reputation that opens doors, so it’s assumed we were all invited.

There I met him and a bunch of other players, and we see each other at events held by artists, musicians, and all kinds of interesting—and rich—people.

Now I’m proud to call a bunch of NFL players my friends.

Which is pretty damn cool.

I’ve followed the game since I was old enough to hold a football. Growing up, my bedroom was filled with posters, flags, signed jerseys, and anything else I could get my hands on. Especially signed stuff.

My brothers followed Dad into the business while I tossed the ball around outside.

“One day, this will be you.” Kaylee twists and kisses my cheek, then drops back down on her feet.

We met in college. The moment I met her, I think I fell in love.

It felt fated. She’s studying to be a physiotherapist and has an interest in sports. Her dad is a big fan of the Hawkes and when he found out I was a quarterback, well, let’s just say, I think that was a bonus.

Not so much a Montgomery.

They’re a middle-class family and I get a sense he’s one of those people that hate anyone withtoo much money.

He never said anything, nor has Kaylee, but I sense it.

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