Page 72 of The Riley Effect

“Matt, you can call me Matt, Ivy.”

“Did you know Matt is Jalen’s Uncle?”

“No way!” Stella screams, followed by Caleb’s. “Jalen is teaching me how to play hockey!”

“Is he?” Matt says with an amused smile.

“You’ve been good for him, Ivy. I finally think he’s grown up a little.”

Little does he know how good Jalen has been for me.

“Thanks. You have a pretty amazing family, Matt.” The room goes quiet.

“Well, I better get going. I promised Jalen I’d help him with his hair before the party tonight.” I head out the door, dresses in hand, hoping my boyfriend’s uncle hits it off with my sister’s kids.

I’m sitting on Jalen’s bed with his back to me as he sits on the floor. My fingers work one over the other to get his hair ready for the guests that will be here in an hour. His fingertips skim overmy bare legs, slowly moving closer to the apex of my thighs. I swat his hand away.

“There is no time for that, Jalen. I still need to do my makeup, and people will be here in an hour.”

Jalen turns so he is facing me–completely destroying the braid I was working on– and presses his face into my lower belly.

“Please, babe, I’m not going to see you for like three weeks after we both make it to the championship game,” His words are muffled into my t-shirt.

I grab the sides of his face and guide it until his eyes are on mine.

“I love how optimistic you are about this postseason.” I lean forward to press my lips to his, “We can have really hot drunk sex tonight, I promise.”

“Fine,” He huffs.

“Let me finish your hair so I can get ready.”

Somehow, I manage to finish getting ready before the first guest arrives. It’s Indy. So, my rushing was for nothing.

“You were supposed to text me when you were on your way.”

“Oops, I forgot,” She shrugs before heading to the makeshift bar the boys made in the living room.”

“Are we drinking tequila tonight?” I roll my eyes. I don’t know if there has been a night out this year where tequila wasn’t our poison of choice.

When Indy pours out two shots for each of us, that’s when I know we are in for one hell of a night.

The shots hit us quickly, so we take a minute to sit on the couch and gather ourselves. I glance around the room taking in all the random girls hanging on the arms of some of Westvale’smost elite athletes. They are almost doing too much, whether it be a dress that is a little too skimpy, coming into the party a little too drunk or smothering the guy they came with to the point that they are visibly disinterested.

“Doesn’t it feel good to be secure in our relationships?” I ask Indy.

“Yeah, it shouldn’t, but it still shocks me how desperate these girls are.”

We hide our laughs behind our second Vodka soda of the night. The boys got shit tequila, and I’m leaving that for all the body shots happening right now.

The mood changes when T-Pain starts playing, and I grab Indy’s hand.

“Let’s go dance.”

I take my best friend’s hand and head to the center of the room, where others have made a makeshift dance floor.

We feel the rhythm. I take Indy’s hand in mine and spin her around, laughing as we enjoy the song that we blast in our apartment before every game.

Mid-belt and in my tipsy haze, I find Jalen, his goofy grin not lining up with the heat in his eyes.

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