Dancing with the Varsity Bad Boy

Chapter 17

Jordan's POV

****

I'm sitting in this class fuming that Bret Andrews is trying to get closer to Violet.

I don't understand why I'm even angry, it's not as though he's moving into the misfit house. But something about him being around there, in her space, grates on my nerves. The Hockey players have always tried it on with the girls in the misfit house, they've always been trying to talk to them, invite them to parties, pretending to be nice guys by offering to help them carry their bags.

They've always been more interested in Violet and Gypsy then the other two girls.

Most of the girls at the university think the members of both the Hockey and Football teams are gods and will do anything to be with one of us, even if it's only for a night. I'm known as The Badass because of my conquests on and off the field. Andrews is known as The Emperor, because of his winning moves on the ice and charming the pants off the girls with his nice guy behaviour.

No way am I letting Violet hang around with The Emperor.

Class finishes and Gypsy and Violet head out, leaving me behind. I grind my teeth, watching him wave at them as they pass him, a confident smirk taking over his face as his gazes travels up and down Violet's body as they leave. I go up to him, my bag swung over my shoulder.

"Andrews, a word," I grit out.

"What do you want Mathews? I have another class to get to," He frowns at me, watching the other students pass behind me.

"You're going to text Violet and ask to meet at a cafe, or somewhere other than her place," I tell him, my voice firm.

"What's it to you if I go round their place? You tapping Violet or one of the other girls there or something?" He asks, a sh'it eating grin spreading across his face.

"Oh wait, you don't do a girl steady, you're about how many," he chuckles, and leans against the table he'd used during class, his grin morphing into an knowing smirk.

"Don't give me that Andrews, you have numbers too, just as I do. The only difference between us is I don't give the girls false hope, I don't put a sweet guy act on like you do," I glare at him, as he watches me, tilting his head a little.

"I don't really care what you think Mathews. Violet and Gypsy offered to have me round so I don't see how it's your concern," he mutters and pushes pass me and heads out of the classroom. I turn to follow him when Amy appears in front of me, smiling at me, her eyes getting this crazy look to them.

"Hi Jordan, you know you didn't need to look after Violet. It's just a act she puts on," she says with a slight pout. I frown down at her, remembering Violet Wednesday night, her screams and sobs as she rocked herself. Nothing I saw over the pass week looked as though she was faking.

"If you don't believe me, you should come and see her in our dance class," the sarcasim and venom in her voice peeked my curiousity. I'd not seen her dance, only seen the aftermath of her suffering.

"We could go out for drinks afterwards," her fingers trail up my arm and a shiver of revulsion passes down my spine.

"I'm busy," I grunt and push pass her and out of the classroom.

My phone bleeping snaps my attention away from Amy's comment and I pull it out to find a text from Violet's dad waiting for me.

Maxwell Beckingham - I'll be at campus tomorrow. Meet me at Violet's dance class so I can thank you and the team for looking after my daughter.

Me - I'll inform the team sir.

Maxwell Beckingham - Don't tell Violet. I want to surprise her.

Me - Your secret is safe with me sir.

A smirk lifts my lips and a part of me wants to try and get closer to this sporting legend. It could help me get drafted. I shake the thought off and head to my next class, knowing I'll be in the weights room after the day's lessons.

****

I sigh as I set the dungbells down and take a breath, looking around the weight room and the rest of the football team working out. Getting up, I wipe down the weights I just finished using and spot Mikey setting his down after finishing his own set.

"You ok to spot me Mikey?" I yell over at him. He nods and we both move over to the bench press and load the weights onto it.

"You're in a mood today Mathews," he comments, eyeing me warily. He's not wrong. I keep swinging between pissed off with Andrews, or excited about meeting one of my sporting hero's.

"Just a bad day," I grumble.

"Really? Because rumour has it you got into a argument with Brett Andrews after your Ethics class," Mikey says, standing at the head of the bench ready to spot me.

"He's going round to the misfit house to talk to Violet about designing a tattoo," I tell him.

"And you're getting het up because he's popping round to our neighbours?" He asks in disbelief, blinking as though not sure how to process my reaction. I lay down on the bench and push myself. Ten reps, rest, ten more reps, rest, ten more reps, rest. There's something calming about solely focusing on only pulling breath into your lungs and feeling your muscles burn as you push your body to its limits.

"He's going to be trouble if he makes this a habit," I huff out, pushing the bar up.

"Ten more reps - trouble for us, or trouble for a certain woman who lives there." Mikey says with a smirk.

I stop lifting and glare at him. "I'm not interested in Violet. She's the one who challenged me to get to know her. Once I've won it we can all move on and I can move on to the next girl, got it?" I grumble at him, sitting up and changing the weights for Mikey.

"Chill dude, I didn't say you were interested in Violet, although getting closer to her means getting close to Maxwell Beckingham. All I said is he's going to be trouble for her. We both know he's the Hockey version of you, and the Hockey team has a bet on," my head snaps to stare wide eyed at him.

"What do you mean the Hockey team has a bet on? And why do you care if he's trouble for her?" I ask as Mikey sighs a little surprised.

"It's been on for the pass two years, I thought the whole team knew. The Hockey team has a bet on to see who will the first out of their team or ours to bed one, or all the girls in that house and... Truthfully? After Wednesday night, with us taking care of her.... I don't know - I kind of see her like a little sister," Mikey admits before taking his place on the bench.

"Eric won't like that, you know he's made it very clear with the team from freshman year that Gypsy is off limits for us. I didn't understand why, but Their full grown women, I'm sure they can handle themselves like they've been doing so far." I tell him, my mind finally putting it together, because Mikey is right. The Hockey team have always been overly nice to the girls in the misfits house.

"Well, Brett has a way of charming the pants off girls like her. She doesn't deserve to be one of his conquests. It'll hurt her, and she's too sweet for that," Mikey says starting his set, my hands under the bar, counting each rep.

Yeah, I know, I think to myself, remembering those moments of raw vulnerability she shared with me. Normally in her half sleep state or when she was in so much pain she'd cling to me.

"Oh, Violet's dad wants the team to meet him at her dance class tomorrow. Wants to thank the us for looking after her I guess." I tell him and watch a huge smile spread across his face.

"Sweet, do you think her brothers will be with him?" He asks, then frowns a little. I shrug, not sure on that either. I mean anyone who follows her brother's career's will know that they are a tight knit family and support each other, that her brother's are highly protective and suportive of her. If I remember correctly there'd been a gossip piece here at the college in freshmen year. I had no idea it was Violet but I do remember her father and brother's had attended her freshmen end of year show to support her.

"Why at her dance class?" He asks and I frown and really think about it. Wouldn't it be better to thank us at our place? Or in a bar or something? Why does he want us to go to her class. Chris chuckles and shakes his head as he watches us.

"He wants to show you what taking care of her allowed her to do. Us helping her through the aftermath of her classes allowed her to dance. I've heard through the jealous dance students she's been given all the solo pieces for the end of year show and is allowed to cherograph like, 90% of the dances," he says and grins at the news.

"How the hell did you hear that? The dancers normally steer clear of us unless one's a jersay chaser," Xavier asks, leaning against one of the machines, wiping sweat from the back of his neck.

"I have a few friends in art majors, and dancers are gossipers. Apparently it was a head to head between Amy and Violet. Violet got it, and Amy was made a stand in." Chris laughs and I shake my head, Amy's sudden comment about me seeing Violet dancing, and that she was only faking the pain for attenion now making sense. Professional jealously and competitiveness.

"Have you ever seen her dance?" I ask, suddenly curious about her. I'm not normally interested in the arts, and definately not dancers. Dancers seem to think that what they do, dancing, is physically more demanding that what we do as athlets, and that they're probably fitter than we are. I've never seen it, but now I'm curious.

Chris nods, and Eric raises and eyebrow at me. "Didn't Amy once say she's the most talented dancer in the school? If that's true, why would Violet have all the solo's and be able to cheorgraph 90% of the dances for the years end show?" He asks.

"That's a good question," we all turn our gazes onto Chris and he chuckles at us.

"You'll have to wait and see tomorrow. I know you guys don't think it's a physically demanding carrer, but the professional version of dance is." With that he walks out of the gym. I shrug at Eric and follow my team mates out listening to them talk excitedly about meeting Maxwell Beckingham and getting to talk with him, and maybe his sons.

However as I listen to them, not once does anyone talk about the reason we get to meet the man, his daughter. It makes me wonder if that's why she's so stand-offish with us.