Page 31 of The Riley Effect

“And I’m not apologizing. That shit tastes good.”

I’ve always admired that the person Byron puts out to the world is the most authentic version of himself. He could put on this big, aggressive hockey player facade. He’s led the team in hits since he was named a starter in his sophomore season, but he leaves that aggression on the ice and is really just a blue-eyed tattooed teddy bear.

I have never felt that freedom to show the world who I truly am. I was almost always the only black kid on my hockey teams growing up, and at times, being biracial made me feel like I didn’t fully have a landing spot. Whenever that feeling came up, guilt washed over me. I came from a home where both my parents were there for me every day and they always supported me wholeheartedly in whatever I did. But sometimes, the narratives we make up in our heads become the truth we see in our everyday lives.

Ivy must have poked some kind of bear in Byron when she confirmed the kind of shot she took because he goes into a rant defending his manhood that nobody questioned. He stops mid-rant when a hip-hop throwback starts to fill the bar. He tries to leave without an explanation but I can’t give up a chance to make fun of the sudden change in his mood.

“Where are you going By?” I have to yell to be heard over the music.

“If I have any chance of taking a girl home tonight, it’s going to start with this song.” Byron has struck out with every girl he’s talked to tonight, the unwarranted confidence makes Ivy laugh as she turns to face me.

“Your friend confuses me, but he does have a point.”

“And what point is that?”

“That this is a good song, and we should dance.”

“I’m warning you now that my dancing skills come from the Italian side of the gene pool and their rhythm is severely lacking.”

“You’re too graceful on the ice to bethatbad of a dancer.” The way her eyes grow with hope makes it impossible for me to say no.

I lean into Ivy so I can whisper in her ear. “If I go out there and dance with you, my entire team will know how I feel about you.” I never dance, and when they see me dancing with the girl I went to console in the bathroom, they’ll know for sure there is more going on with Ivy and me than her just being my supervisor at the shelter.

“You already walked out of the girl’s bathroom with me on your arm tonight. I think everybody already knows you’re obsessed with me.” She flips her hair and I can’t help but to laugh.

I guess we did make it blatantly obvious how we feel about each other tonight and not just to our friends but to each other too. If hearing Ivy say she wants me feels this good I’ll have her remind me everyday. I have enjoyed every minute I’ve spent with her over the last few weeks. Before this year, Ivy mainly kept to herself, focusing on school and basketball, but I want to show everyone the girl that I’ve gotten to know over the last few months. The girl who spends extra time at the shelter withthe older dogs who are overlooked for adoption. The girl that’s sarcastic and not scared to put me in my place. The girl who understands the demands of a Division l athlete and isn’t mad if we don’t hang out for a few days. The girl that if she lets you in, you’ll never want to let her go.

I lean forward because even in this crowded bar this feels like an intimate moment. “You’re right. I am obsessed with you.”

“Then dance with me.”

I get up from the barstool I’ve been perched on for the last hour and take Ivy’s hand so I can guide us to the darkest corner of the dance floor. My six-foot-five frame is hard to hide, and it’s not that I want to hide Ivy, I just like when it’s the two of us without the prying eyes of our friends.

When we reach our alcove, the beat changes. It’s sexy. It’s dirty. It has Ivy pressing her ass against me. She takes my hands and guides them slowly down her body until they rest on her hips. She takes full control, moving sensually.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Ivy.” I groan into her neck. “I’m following your lead, baby.”

That encourages Ivy to move harder against me, causing my breath to quicken. Her hands move up until they are gripping my neck, and there is no space left between us. I move my hand until it’s resting against the front of her thigh. She moans as I tease closer to her center.

I lower my head so my lips rest against the shell of Ivy’s ear. “Are you finally ready to give in to this attraction, Angel?”

I want to stay here in this moment where the pressure of the hockey season is nonexistent. The pending NHL Draft is the furthest thing from my mind. Here, in this moment, I’m just a kid in college dancing with the girl he can’t get off his mind.

The song ends, our movements slow, and I’m blinded when the fluorescent lights start to glow over the bar, signaling final call.

I turn to Ivy, and for the first time tonight, I can clearly see her beautiful mocha eyes. “Come back to my place. We’re having after hours.” I’m panting, my heart rate still raised from having her pulled so tight to me. “I’m not ready to say goodnight.”

“Okay,” her voice is raspy. “Let’s go.”

18

Ivy

The sexual tension in this taxi is overwhelming, well, not for Indy and Marcus, who have no problem releasing theirs. Luckily, I’m more focused on Jalen who hasn’t so much as mumbled in my direction since we left the bar. He seems tense, looking toward the front windshield like it’s a crystal ball that holds the answers to all his problems. Mine being trying to figure out why he invited me back to his place.

“What’s wrong?”

His question does nothing to break up the couple I’m sharing the backseat with. Having picked up Indy and Marcus from the bar plenty of times, I know when alcohol is involved, there isn’tmuch that will stop them from keeping their hands off of each other.

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