Dancing with the Varsity Bad Boy

Chapter 4

Jordan's POV

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I stumble back, the girl's phone in my hand as Mikey pushes me out of the way and scoops her up in his arms. When he turns to me, his eyes are wide with shock and he hurries to lay the girl on the sofa in the living room.

"Hello? Hello, can someone please answer me? Is Violet ok? Violet? Violet sweetheart, say something," the voice of an older man snaps my attention back to the phone and I clear my throat before following Mikey.

"Hello sir, this is Jordan Mathews, Violet fainted. My roommate, Mikey, has just laid her on the sofa." I say, my voice thick with shock and concern for the girl. Before the party I'd stolen a slice of her pizza, she'd seemed fine, her normal self even.

Was she hurt? Did she get into an accident? But there's no blood, no bruising, nothing to indicate she's been hurt. Her screams echo in my head, haunting, soul piercing, as though she was being tortured by demons.

I had not been expecting this when the doorbell rang. No one rings it, I even forgot we had one, and I'd been pissed because I'd just been about to get to bed. We have classes tomorrow, so I really didn't need or want drama.

When I'd opened the door, the wind was knocked right out of me, seeing her with tears streaming down her cheeks, her bright hazel eyes, dull, hollowed out and red rimmed and puffy.

What the Fu'ck happened?

I've never seen something like that. She's always been smiling, laughing, even when she's yelling at me, her eyes were always twinkling with life. Now she's as white as a sheet, a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, so vulnerable.

"Mathews, call a house meeting, now. This is Maxwell Beckingham, Violet's dad." My eyes grow wide at hearing the name of one of my football hero's and I have the intense need to tell him how much I admire him, but something in his voice tells me, now isn't the time to be a fan.

Mikey holds his hand out for the phone, his mouth set in a hard line and I hand it over before jogging up the stairs and banging into every bedroom, flicking lights on and waking my house mates up. Their grumbling ends when I tell them there's an urgent house meeting, and demand they be downstairs in five minutes. When Maxwell Beckingham speaks, you do what he asks, the man is a sporting legend, he's one of the reason I became a quarterback, my step-dad being the other reason.

I get back downstairs to find Violet awake, curled in a small tight ball and rocking herself back and forth, sporting my headphones and Mikey tapping at my phone, music on full pelt to the point I can make out the song and lyrics.

"I'm burrowing my teammate's phone and headphones sir, but knowing she's your daughter and you asked he won't mind," Mikey grins at me, and I roll my eyes, because now I know Mr Beckingham asked for something, and Mikey used my stuff, he's right, I don't mind.

"Thank you Mikey, I appreciate it." Mr Beckingham says with a sigh. He sounds tired, and stressed. I don't blame him either, something's happened to his daughter, and he's unable to be here for her. From all the articles I've read on interviews wiith Maxwell Beckingham, his family means everything to him, so he must be out of his mind with worry.

"Everyone is here sir," I state noticing our teammates have filled the room. Xavier sits on the sofa next to Violet and she climbs onto his lap, hugging him tight, getting as close to him as possible, her head buried in the crook of his neck, her soft humming lost amongst the mummers of our team mates. Xavier wraps his arms around her, his hand gently trailing up and down her back.

What the hell? I thought she rejects every guy that makes a move on her.

And I know that Xavier put the moves on her in our freshmen year. I remember because he'd come to practice complaining that the hottest girl he'd ever seen had rejected him, the whole team had been surprised because girls didn't reject the athlets. Xavier catches me watching him and he shakes his head before mouthing.

We're just mates.

That still doesn't explain why she straddling his lap, or why she's clinging to him, but I can't say anything considering her dad is on the phone.

"Good morning everyone, I'm Maxwel Beckingham, Violet's father." it's grows so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, every member of the team shocked to learn they'd been neighbours with Beckingham's daughter. The only sound is Violet's humming, her eyes screwed up tight.

"I need my daughter to stay with you for the next week, or until one of her house mates return. She has Rhumatoid Arthritis and Fibromyalgia and suffers with chronic pain. She's run out of one of her medications that keeps the intense flare up under some form of control and it'll take me a week to get the medication to her. She needs support to manage the pain, and she'll need help getting around. Is everyone agreeable?" I stare at the girl, Violet, unable to wrap my head around everything. She's our age, how can she have a illness common in the elderly?

"Jordan, Eric, your our captain and co captain, what do you think?" Mikey asks, running his fingers through Violets hair. She flinches, her body jerking as though she's been electrocuted. She's still got music playing at top volumn, but I swear she knows we're talking about her as her whole body stiffens.

"She can stay, she can take my bedroom as it has an en-suite, though she will need help getting upstairs," I say, and try to work out how best to work our training around having a house guest.

"Is there any possiblity she can have someone sleep on a couch in that room as well? She won't be able to do much, even walking will cause her pain to increase." Mr Beckingham asks, and another voice can be heard in the background.

"Mathews can keep an eye on her tonight, she'll need someone in there to help her. You know she won't be getting much sleep tonight. Then she'll need someone to drive her to her classes tomorrow. You might need to call her dance professor before class starts, dad. so they don't push her. You know she won't call in sick," a deep voice states, which must be one of her brothers. If I remember correctly, both her older brothers got drafted into the same team her father spent his whole career with,

"Are you ok with that Mathews?" Mr Beckingham asks, a slight warning in his tone. He doesn't want me touching his daughter while she's vulnerable, not that I ever would. I like my women to give concent, to want me back. Forcing myself on a woman has never been a turn on.

"Yes sir," Eric scoffs and muffles his laughter. I roll my eyes and the team goes back to bed, leaving me, Eric, Mikey, and Xavier in the living room where her father, and one of her brother's gives me a long ass list to remember. Although they did state that she'll probably try and manage alone when she's able to. After exchanging goodbyes, I step up behind her from where she hasn't moved from Xavier's lap, and scoop her up bridal style, those hazel eyes drooping with fatigue even as she tenses, her face screwing up in pain.

"Come on, let's get you settled. Eric can you grab her bags?" I ask, and Eric nods before getting up to gather them from where they still lay, by the front door. I turn and carry her up the stairs, watching her out the corner of my eye as she drifts in and out of sleep, her head resting against my shoulder. It's almost as though just as her body relaxes to the point she can sleep, the pain spikes again, taunting her, keeping her in a limbo between sleep and alertness.

She doesn't say anything until I gently sit her on my bed and grab myself a clean pair of boxers. Eric comes in and places her bags on the foot of my bed, resting her crutch in a corner of the room.

I debate whether or not to grab her nightwear, not knowing if she'll need help getting changed, and not knowing if I could resist looking at her naked body.

"Can you help me?" She asks, and I freeze before swallowing hard.

"Yeah, of course I can. What can I do?" The words are out before I can stop them.