Page 69 of The Riley Effect

“I can’t believe that happened. I’m so sorry, Jalen.”

“It’s okay, Angel,” I tell her sincerely.

“I can always get it fixed, but I only get to tell my girl I love her for the first time once.”

Ivy wraps herself into my side. I lean down to place a kiss on her cheek.

“Are you going to stay up here tonight?”

“Yeah,” she responds through hazy eyes.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” I reach over the side of the bed, making sure my body never leaves Ivy’s side, and grab my laptop. Our next musical is all queued up to watch– Hairspray–while the ball drop plays on TV.

“I can’t believe I was so anxious about this. I thought something bad was going to happen today when Indy said you had a surprise for me.”

In true Ivy fashion, she makes it through the opening credits before she passes out. I don’t get the chance to ask her what she meant.

My teammates and I take over the first two rows behind Westvale’s bench. My mind is still reeling from how last night ended. Ivy and I didn’t get a chance to talk this morning, she had to leave first thing to prepare for her shoot-around.

I can’t believe I was anxious about this.

I haven’t stopped thinking about that statement since Ivy muttered those words in her sleepy haze. I know Ivy has trust issues, especially regarding relationships with men. That’s why I’ve worked so hard to show her I’m a man she can trust.

A gentle tap on my shoulder pulls me back into reality, and I find a look of concern spread across Aaron’s face.

“You okay, man? You were in some other universe for a moment there.”

“Do you think I’m trustworthy?”

You’d think I asked him to help me bury a body. The question stuns him, and I’m left with nothing but the sounds of balls bouncing against hardwood.

“What do you mean?”

“Ivy said something last night that makes me think she doesn’t fully trust me.”

“I assume it’s because of your past,” He pauses for a moment. “Dating history.” I nod.

“I mean, think it’s understandable. She hasn’t dated much, and every time we go out, some girl from your past comes up to us in total disregard for your relationship.”

I guess I haven’t thought about how that would make her feel. I just shrug them off without a second thought. Now, if I think about it, I can see how that could make Ivy feel insecure in this relationship.

“Damn, Aaron, you’re right. I didn’t realize you were so observant.”

He shrugs, “I think you learn more from watching than talking.” I don’t know where all this wisdom came from, but I’m thankful for it.

I decided that it was not worth overanalyzing some words muttered after the best sex I’ve ever had. Ivy struggles with showing her emotions, and last night, she told me she was in love with me. Those are the words I’m choosing to remember from our first New Year’s Eve together.

I look down at the bleachers, and it’s just another reminder of how lucky I am. My entire team came out to support Ivy and Indy. After my party at the start of the season, our two teams have become close– pre-games, nights at Jasper’s, going to each other’s games– and now we are supporting the girls during their biggest game of their season.

It’s been a nail-biter from the opening jump, with no team leading by more than five points. Westvale fans are outnumbered four to one, but we are a very passionate minority, contributing to the gym’s rowdy atmosphere. As time ticks down during the fourth quarter, this game could go either way.

Indy’s drive to the basket pulled the game within two. Forty seconds show on the clock when UCONN’s coach calls a timeout. We need one stop just to have a chance at tying the game. When the timeout breaks, Westvale is ready to go. They’re locked in on defense, and with twenty seconds left in the game, they hold the ball, leaving enough time for one shot. Indy takes two hard dribbles and stops at the foul line when she notices Ivy is open. Ivy has her feet set beyond the three-point line–she’s goingfor the win. I have a good feeling about the shot as it leaves her hands. I hold my breath, watching as the ball rotates once around the rim before falling through the net.

Before I know what’s happening, I’m on my feet.

“That’s my girl!” I scream, and somehow, through all the cheers, in a sea of her teammates, Ivy’s eyes lock on mine. I give her a wink. This girl can really do it all.

The start of the second semester is always a whirlwind. We are approaching the end of the season, and by the time everyone else makes it back to campus, we’ve already been here for nearly a month. The combination of spending too much time with the boys and playoffs looming– during which drinking and partying come to a stop–we birthed the tradition of the hockey formal. It might sound like some fancy party, but in reality, it’s just a bunch of college kids using it as an excuse to dress up for a pregame before going to the bars.

---