Quarterback and edge rusher

“Yeah. Don’t stress at all, girl. I’ll be leaving soon anyway; I’ll soak up a bit more sun before I do. My legs are half dead anyway!”

Vi grins at Nancy, who is standing and dusting herself off; the girls had been lying on the field after their final practice before the short break.

“I love wearing our cheer fits.” Vi muses, looking at Nancy appreicatively.

“It’s… Fun.”

“All the eyes?”

Nancy blushes in response, looking away and then abruptly changing the topic. “Uh, yeah.. Sorry I can’t stay long; I just got to get to work soon.”

“It’s all good, babe, seriously. It’s impressive that you didn’t take any time off.”

“It’s just a casual job,” she smiles lightly, “boring retail.”

“I’ll come visit you one day; you can dress me up.” She winks, “Or Erik.”

Nancy giggles, blushing slightly, “That would be fun… Ian and Andrew came once…”

“Oh, yeah?” Vi asks with a smirk.

Nancy blushes and clears her throat, “Yeah… I. Yes! I gotta go! I’ll see you at the party?”

Vi smiles, “Maybe! I haven’t decided yet.”

“I think Ophelia will want you there…” Nancy says, “But yeah! See you!”

Nancy turns and leaves Vi to lie back down in the football field's short-cut grass, with significantly fewer students on and around campus, many heading home the moment exams ended.

The party…

Vi puts her head on her small duffel, propping herself up as she closes her eyes.

Ophelia’s sorority is hosting a ‘mid-holidays’ house party; the theme isn’t confirmed just yet, but some of the other cheerleaders in the sorority have gossiped that allegedly the theme started as an intricate halloween theme, to a generic costume party, to what it sounds like is the final choice; shut up and be hot.

Vi is a little disappointed… She wanted to dress up… She hopes that Blake repeats what he apparently did last year, and hosts a late costume party for his models and wealthy backers.

Vi sighs, peering up at the sky through squinted eyes, imagining what a sorority halloween party would’ve looked like…

And as if her mind were summoning the ‘delicious hard bodies’ she would’ve seen at said party, two large, masculine shadows loom over her. She opens an eye and peers up at the causes of the shade.

“Hey girl.” Marcus grins down at her. Jean stands beside him, his eyes moving up her body from her long legs, the skirt riding up her thighs slightly. “Sup, Vi?”

“Hello, boys.” Vi replies, her heart beating with excitement.

Having this much attention without actually being part of the squad yet fuels her with deserved arrogance.

Marcus is the first to sit down, putting an arm around her shoulders and propping the other on the grass. “Out here all alone?”

She smirks back, Jean sitting down on her other side. “Nancy just left.”

“Ah. That’s alright, I like to keep my focus singular.” Marcus remarks, grinning.

“So, I’ve heard.” Vi grins, putting Marcus on the back foot, his face switching to confusion.

Her gaze shifts from his dark, boulder shoulders to Jean on her other side, his eyes snapping up from her legs again.

“What about you?”

Jean shrugs. “What about me?”

“Can you stay focused?” She reaches down, thumbing the hem of her skirt, his eyes following them down greedily.

“I think you should test me,” Jean replies smoothly, looking up at her.

“Would Ophelia like you saying that to me?” She teases, already suspecting that they likely have a weird dynamic.

“Ophelia—”

Jean is cut off by Marcus. “Yeah, bro. She letting you free?”

Jean sneers, but he’s saved from giving a retort, his phone ringing with some custom ringtone.

“Speaking of,” Marcus says.

Jean gives him a dirty look, then stands up, answers the phone, and walks away. “Hey babe… Yeah, I was…”

“Now then.” Marcus snickers, lightly touching her thigh. “How about you give me that test instead of him?”

“What was that?” Vi asks, nodding back at the still retreating Jean.

Marcus chuckles, running a zip over his lips. “Jean can tell you. Or… Probably Ophelia. Bro code.”

‘Interesting.’

“Anyway, forget him.” Marcus grins; he leans close. “Erik told me about your… arrangement.”

Vi giggles, stretching her back and arching slightly, giving Marcus a nice side-on view. “So I’ve heard.”

She turns a bit to face him, reaching up to glide her hand down his hard chest, grabbing a small fistful of his shirt after getting a nice hold of his abs. “It’s really sweet that you went to tell him.”

“I’m a gentleman.” Marcus grins back.

Vi leans forward and whispers in his ear, letting go of his belt and flicking his belt buckle, “I hope not too much… I’d hate to be treated gentler than your professor.”

That surprises him; he scoots back and stares at her, wide-eyed. “He told you that?” He looks around nervously. “About…”

Her smirk is wide, nibbling on her bottom lip; she nods, “Sure did. Ah—me—lee—ah”

He looks around nervously, laughing to himself as he gets closer again, speaking in a hushed tone, “He’s supposed to keep that to himself.”

“He tells me. Everything.”

Marcus scoffs, “Fuck… That's crazy. I didn’t believe him fully… Everything? ”

She nods and reaches down again, rubbing two fingers on his belt buckle. “I tell him most things too.”

“Most?”

She nods, biting her lip. “Of course… Sometimes… He has to wait a bit.” She drags a nail down the bulge in his jeans.

“Fuck…” Marcus groans, “That’s hot as fuck. You both get to have your fun then?”

Vi shrugs, “It’s only fair. He gets the busty professor… Well. Sometimes, as I understand it.” She giggles, “You’re really keeping my boy on his toes.”

A grimace crosses his face. “When he lets me win anyway.”

Vi decides not to reveal that Erik isn’t letting him win; she wants her boy to have an assumed upper hand after all.

“Hmmm…” She touches his chest again. “Regardless… Will I get the gentle treatment?”

Marcus groans, adjusting himself openly in front of her. “You make it sound like it’s going to happen?”

“Isn’t it?” She teases, “You going to celebrate a win with your friends girl?” She runs her other hand over her chest. “I think this can be pulled off pretty easily.”

The sound of crunching grass makes Vi lean back off Marcus with a sly smile, looking up at Jean as she uses her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

“Hope he didn’t bore you,” Jean says.

Marcus chuckles, “To answer your question, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Vi gives him a smirk, Marcus grinning at Jean.

“What question?” Jean asks with narrowed eyes.

Vi puts a finger on her lips. “ You snooze, you lose.”

Jean rolls his eyes, sitting down again.

“You coming to Ophelia’s party?” Jean asks.

“Maybe. Nancy asked me about it too.” She sighs, leaning back on her hands, Jean glancing at her legs, Marcus at her chest.

‘Ophelia is all legs and ass; Amelia Revers is infamously all chest. This is too cute’

“You boys going to be there?”

Marcus groans; Jean smirks. “I will be. Marcus?” He asks, smirking at his fellow footballer.

“Fuck off, Jean,” Marcus responds, shaking his head.

“Why not?” Vi asks, subtly lifting her skirt slightly for Jean’s pleasure.

“I’ll be at my folks' place. Sister's wedding.” Marcus squints through the sun. “Want to be my date?”

Vi lets out a loud laugh, “You wish.”

Marcus shrugs, “Worth a shot.”

Marcus looks past Vi. “You can’t get her to have the party first week of the holidays, instead of the second week?”

“You know Ophie to change her mind?” Jean retorts, tearing his gaze from her legs to her breasts.

“Dick,” Marcus says.

Vi peers at Jean, “You a leg man, huh?”

Jean finds her eyes, “I’m a ‘beautiful woman’, man.”

Marcus groans, “Bro.”

Vi giggles, reaching out to touch Jean's arm, dragging her fingers down his hard muscles, “It was funny; don’t listen to him.” She directs at Jean.

Jean smirks but nods, “But yeah… I’m partial to legs.”

“I’ve seen Ophelia’s legs.” Vi says, biting her lower lip, much to Jean’s interest, “Can’t take my eyes off them most times.”

“Same,” Jean says, looking down at her legs again.

“Me too,” Marcus says, lying back in the grass.

“How do I compare?”

Jean chuckles, “I ain’t falling for that… I would need to take them for a test run after all.”

“Now?”

Jean nods, “Anytime, all the time.”

“I’m telling Ophelia,” Marcus says.

“You’re such a cretin,” Jean says, tossing his cap at Marcus’ abdomen.

Marcus grabs the hat and tosses it backwards. “Fetch.”

Vi giggles between them, putting a hand on Marcus’s thigh and a hand on Jean's, “Boys, boys, no fighting… At least not like this; take your shirts off first.”

Jean laughs, and Marcus scoffs, eyeing her carefully. She winks in response.

“What are you boys doing here anyway?” Vi asks, genuinely.

“Last practice soon,” Marcus answers.

“Ah, when?”

Jean checks his phone. “10 minutes or so.” He looks at Marcus. “Speaking of…”

“That’s a shame.”

The boys look at her. “Why?”

Vi looks between them, “No reason.” She winks, turning to Jean, “Guess your test run is being rain checked.”

Jean shakes his head, “I could skip practice.”

“Get fucked.” Marcus growls, sitting up, “Mr ‘give me victory or give me death’ is going to skip practice?”

Vi giggles again, slowly standing up and looking down at the two sitting men, “No, no,” She licks her lips, “Don’t mind me. I don’t want to ruin your nice consistent schedules.” She gives them a deliberate appreciative look. “I’m sure you want to win more than the girls want you to.” She winks, hiking her skirt up for a brief moment.

She turns without another look back, swaying her hips.

This newfound freedom is so, so exhilarating.

And dangerous.