Page 52 of The Riley Effect

“You cried at the bar the night you thought I was hooking up with Claire,” he reminds me.

I let out a low laugh. “That doesn’t count alcohol was involved.”

Jalen joins in on the laughter but quickly grows serious. “Just because your dad did something awful doesn’t make him an awful person, Ivy. I think it’s amazing that you have basketball to connect you to him.”

I wrap myself tighter around Jalen, but I can’t make myself look into his eyes. I know if I do I’ll start crying again. While I’m still buried in his chest I try to find the motivation to start this basketball game.

“Okay, enough with the sappy shit.” Since I met Jalen, I’ve talked about my emotions enough to last me a lifetime.

I pull myself away from him to pick up the basketball. When he’s not looking I throw it at him. “You owe me a one-on-one game, and Caleb will be here in forty-five minutes.”

“Ladies first, Ivy,” he says, offering me the first possession.

“Are you sure?” I don’t need the chivalry, I am the one who plays college basketball.

He nods.

So, let the games begin.

I take two hard dribbles to my left, and when Jalen cuts me off, I crossover and start moving to my right. Jalen is caught off guard, and I’m able to make it to the hoop for an easy basket.

“I thought you said your dad taught you how to play basketball?” I tease him. “Maybe you’re spending a little too much time on skates.”

My teasing ignites some kind of spark in Jalen’s competitive nature. He licks his lips before aggressively offering me the ball.

“We’re playing make-it-take-it?” Normally, in a game of one-on-one, if you make a basket, it is customary to get possession until you miss and the other player gets a rebound. You can also play where your opponent gets the ball after a make like they would in a regulation basketball game

Jalen stays silent instead getting in his defensive stance before he passes me the ball. This time, I take the lane he leaves open and move toward the hoop. I stop when his large frame cuts me off and dribble in place looking for my next move. Before I can do that he grabs my wrist and spins me into him.

“Jalen, what are you doing?” I ask, thoroughly confused, what kind of game is this going to turn into.

“What? I just thought you needed a hug.”

When I try to pull away, he pulls me back. It’s like we’re playing tug-of-war, just without the rope. Realizing he’s never going to let go of me, I free my right hand and toss the ball behind me. Trying to give it enough arc so it has a shot of going in.

Jalen turns us so we can watch the ball. It looks like it’s going in, so I straighten my back, ready to rub it in Jalen’s face, but then it takes a little dance around the inside of the rim, andJalen’s body straightens as mine sags. After what feels like the longest three seconds of my life, the ball falls into the hoop.

Jalen leaves me to grab the ball, and when he has it secured in between both hands, he tells me very sternly, “That’s absolute bull shit.”

“Hate the player, not the game,” I say before dramatically hitting the sides of the ball and grabbing it out of his hands.

He gets very serious for a second during a very unserious basketball game.

“I could never hate you, Ivy.”

I’m stunned to silence, and Jalen carries on like nothing happened. Just a nice little throwaway comment.

I miss my next shot, and Jalen secures the ball easily. He tries to use his big body to back me down so he can have an easy look at the basket. With his back to my front, I jump on his back, and he carries me around like a chimpanzee carries around her baby. To my disappointment, he makes the basket easily.

“I’d say my basketball skills are treating me well,” he taunts.

He tucks his arms under my legs and gives me a piggyback around the gym before dropping me to the hardwood.

“Bring it on, big boy. I’m not scared of some sappy hockey player.”

Jalen’s eyes brighten like they did the night of his party olympics and again on our first date. He’s ready to win by any means necessary. I love that Jalen has the same competitive nature as me. He understands myneedto win and the pressure I put on myself to do so. I think Jalen and I could make crossing the street into some kind of competition, and we would have as much fun as we are right now.

Jalen and I trade baskets until the score is eighteen to twenty. I’m one point away from endless bragging rights.

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