Page 19 of The Riley Effect

11

Jalen

Ivy’s apartment complex comes into view far too quickly.

I put the car in park and sneak a peek at Ivy. She is singing along, albeit poorly, to the country playlist I chose in the restaurant’s parking lot. The braid she tied her hair in before our Air Hockey game is swaying, and her cheeks are flush.

Once the car is parked, I’m on a mission to open Ivy’s door. As I round the car’s hood, I see Ivy reaching for the handle. My long legs quicken their stride, but I’m half a stride too short, and my nose becomes a doorstop.

“Damnit, Ivy.” I run my finger under my nose to make sure it’s not bleeding.

“Oh..oh my god. Are you okay? I didn’t see you there. You were just trying to be nice and open my door, and I broke your nose.” I think she’s done, but I hold off speaking as I hear her whisper to herself, “This is why we can’t have nice things, Ivy.”

“I play hockey, Ivy. My nose has been through a lot worse.” I take Ivy’s hand and help her out of the car.

We start up the walkway to her ground-level apartment.

“Can I get you any ice for your nose?” she asks shyly when we reach the front porch.

I shake my head. In all honesty, this is nothing, but I’m enjoying seeing this softer, more nurturing side of Ivy. She runs her finger down my nose, and the simple contact sends chills throughout my body.

She must feel it, too, because her hand leaves my face in a quick jolt. My body reacts, and before I know what’s happening, our pinkies are interlocked, and I’m pulling her into me. Ivy’s chin rests on my chest, and when she looks up at me, I seize the moment by leaning in to place an innocent kiss on Ivy’s lips.

When I pull away, Ivy’s body sags in disappointment. The last thing I want is for her to leave this date, questioning my intentions. If she wants more, I can give her more.

I take her chin between my thumb and index finger and tilt my head so she is looking me in the eyes. Her coffee-colored eyes brighten when I bring my lips back to hers. Her lips part, a sigh escaping them and my tongue takes the invitation. We meet in a hot, wet seep. I’m completely lost in the moment and don’t notice Ivy’s front door opening until she pulls away.

Indy stands at the door with her overnight bag in tow. I follow her eyes to where my hands are resting just above Ivy’s ass.

I take a second to mourn the loss of a perfect moment.

“I had a lot of fun today, Ivy.” I lean and press my lips to her forehead before returning to my car.

I turn back towards the porch before I open the door of my Ford Focus.

“And Ivy, you deserve all the nice things.”

Have you ever driven home and you aren’t sure how you got there without totaling your car? I’m currently expecting a ticket in the mail from one of the traffic cameras all over town. I’m unsure if I stopped at a single stop sign between Ivy’s apartment and my house. That damn kiss was the only thing I could think about. If her lips were a drug, one hit would never be enough.

When I get to our front hallway, I take a second to send Ivy a text to let her know I’m home and that I had a lot of fun tonight.

I decide not to go out and meet my teammates, who are blowing up my phone with updates from Jaspers. Instead, I head to my room to get ready for bed. This was the last full week of practices before games start and I want to enjoy my bed as much as I can before I’m sleeping in hotels for half the week.

I’m not surprised when I turn the corner and see Byron’s hands gripping some random girl’s ass in our living room. Byron has been pulling this shit since we were in high school. I think he has some weird fetish with people watching him hook up.

He runs his tongue down the front of her throat, prompting moans from them both. Byron’s hands move from her face, down her arms, and to her hips.

I almost make it to my room unnoticed. Until our trusty third step creaks in that way that only happens in an old house. Byron looks up, lipstick smeared across his lips.

“How was your date?” he asks as he takes a moment to catch his breath.

My chest tightens with a possessive feeling that’s new to me like I want to keep these moments I’ve shared with Ivy between us. It took a fucking bet for Ivy to go out with me. I feel lucky that she opened up to me, and I don’t want to jeopardize that because this random jersey chaser Byron has on our couch can’t keep her mouth shut. I’ve been a permanent member of Westvale’s rumor mill since I hooked up with the starting quarterback’s girlfriend during my first week here freshman year. She didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.

Being gossiped about never bothered me, but I know it will push Ivy away. I don’t want to push her away. I know I can be the reason she lights up a room. Call me selfish, but I want to see more of that.

Throughout our friendship, Byron and I have created our own language spoken with just simple facial expressions. My eyebrows pinch up, and my lips straighten, signaling not now.

“Give me one second,” he says to the random girl, picking her up and placing her on the couch.

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