Page 9 of The Riley Effect

Indy struts right through the front door, energy high and ready to drink.

“Party’s here!” she yells, always one to make her presence known.

Indy wanted to make sure she had some time with Marcus–they are so disgustingly in love, it’s sickening– before the rest of our teams showed up, so now we are the first two people at the party.

I’m a step behind Indy, a little hesitant now that we are at the boys’ house. She looks stunning in her skin-tight dress and heels that accentuate her already amazing ass. I look down at my cargopants and Jordan 1s, wondering if I should have followed“the college girl uniform”that the rest of my team is going to show up in.

We’re greeted by Marcus as soon as we walk through the door. His smile grows as his eyes wander down Indy’s dress. I watch as his tongue runs over his bottom lip.

“She looks good tonight, doesn’t she?” I ask Marcus. He pulls me into his side.

“You both do.”

His words don’t help my confidence because I could have come here wearing a paper bag, and Marcus would have told me I looked amazing. He is just that sweet of a guy.

“I know you’re lying, but thank you.” I lean into his hug for a second before letting him go so he can see his girlfriend.

“Who’s here?” a deep voice asks.

“It’s Indy and her roommate Ivy. I told them to come early so we could have a few drinks before the house becomes a zoo. That’s Byron.” Marcus’ head bobs toward the smiling hockey player with shaggy blonde hair.

“Cool, I’ll make some drinks. Anything in particular you guys want?”

Indy turns towards me, and I shrug. I’m not particularly picky when it comes to alcohol.

“Surprise us!”

Byron smirks before heading back to the makeshift bar. We follow him into the kitchen, where I’m introduced to Aaron, who helps Byron make the drinks. He has a bottle of tequila in hand, and cans of soda water are scattered on the counter. It looks like we’ll be sticking with tequila tonight.

Aaron hands me my drink. Before he goes to make the next, he runs a hand through his auburn hair. He’s handsome in a Kennedy kind of way. It’s a little too put together for my taste.

I’m already halfway through my drink, and there’s been no sign of Jalen. Indy and Lola have been harassing me about Jalen since he and Marcus told us about tonight. Apparently, Marcus said something about how Jalen has been asking his teammates about me.

Indy is convinced that Jalen is going to try something tonight. I told her the questions are probably because he’s stuck with me as his supervisor at the shelter for the year.

Lola is convinced Jalen was flirting with me that first day he was in the shelter, and no matter how many times I deny it, Lola refuses to let it go. In my opinion, Jalen is the frontrunner for the biggest flirt on campus, so even if he was flirting with me, I’m not taking any of it too seriously. But I can’t say I hate the possible flirting. Jalen is hot, and he knows it. He has an edge to him. His six-foot-five-inch frame serves as a canvas for stories that are told by his tattoos. I shake the dirty thoughts running through my mind. I’m not here to find a Jalen-sized distraction. I’m here for myself, to remind everyone I know how to have some fun.

I turn to talk to Indy, but I’m instantly drawn to a figure descending the stairs. He’s wearing black fitted jeans and a button-up shirt, with what some might say is one too many buttons undone. I, on the other hand, can’t stop staring at the mural permanently inked onto his chest. I imagine myself slowly unbuttoning the shirt to see the full picture.

I return to reality with a nudge by Indy before she whispers, “Stop gawking,” into my ear. Thanks to the highlighter that I decided to apply at the last minute, I don’t think she notices the rosy tint that I know is spreading over my cheeks.

“What’s on the menu tonight?” Jalen asks no one in particular.

“We started with tequila,” Byron answers before handing Jalen a shot.

“Are you going to make me drink alone?” At first, I think he is asking the group as a whole, but when nobody answers, I look in his direction, and his eyes are locked on mine. They darken nearly to navy, taunting me.

His intensity jolts a current of energy up my spine. I’m starting to wonder if everyone feels Jalen’s intensity like I do. Do they feel the same gravitational pull?

The intensity turns competitive as he waits for someone to answer him like it’s a dare. As a competitor, I can’t let him get away with this. You don’t make it to this level in our athletic careers without being a little ruthless.

I don’t take my eyes off Jalen when I tell him, “I think we are all ready for another.”

I just hope that it is not a mistake.

Indy shoots me a look that says, where has this bitch been the last three years. It pulls a giggle out of me.

“You’re the one that wanted me to have fun this year.”

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