Page 33 of Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1)

ALEX

Over the next few weeks, I made a series of poor decisions.

Every one of them involved Ryder and his cock.

I couldn’t stay away. I’d become an addict, crawling back for another hit time and time again, despite the destructive nature of my actions.

The habit began the day I tagged along to sign Ryder’s apartment lease.

After he’d taken us both in hand and tugged us to an explosive finish, I’d realized two things.

One, getting off with another man on the regular was a million times better than biting my lip as I hid under my covers to quietly take care of business alone, and two, I didn’t hate Ryder like I used to.

In fact, I might even like him.

Once I’d cleaned our combined cum off my sated dick that day, I’d exited the bathroom to find him waiting in the hallway, jeans up but unbuttoned and shoulder propped against the wall.

His eyes had been heavy with satisfied fatigue, and his half-smile had given me the absurd urge to press my lips to his.

Only the fact that I’d come my brains out three minutes before kept me from reaching for him again.

“Truce?” He’d said as I’d walked up to him.

“What?”

He shrugged, then motioned back and forth between us. “This is fun. You’re hot, and we’re good together like this. We’re not friends, but if we call a truce, we can quit hating each other’s guts and enjoy fucking around.”

I’d cocked my head and scanned his face for sincerity.

“A truce, huh?” The offer was perfect. We could avoid any in-depth discussion about our past contentious relationship and keep hooking up.

More importantly, I wouldn’t have to admit the deep-seated hatred I’d harbored for him had evaporated.

We could go on and skip any of the emotional bullshit I didn’t have time for or interest in.

And I’d get orgasms.

He shrugged. “Why not?”

There were reasons. Many reasons, but none of them came to me right then. Probably because he’d drained half my brain power through my balls. “Works for me.” I’d said with an answering shrug, all nonchalant as though my insides weren’t throwing a party.

Since that day, we’d gotten each other off as often as possible anywhere we could.

Granted, we usually only found time once or twice a week, but it beat how often I was getting it before by a mile.

After work, before our shifts, in the back seat of his snazzy car, and one other time at his apartment.

Whenever we could sneak away and not be missed or discovered, we took advantage.

But never in a bed and never more than quick blow jobs or rushed hand jobs. This wasn’t a thing . We still weren’t friends. We didn’t talk or hang out beyond screwing around, but we’d stuck to the truce and enjoyed frequent orgasms.

Dominic had announced the last call about twenty minutes ago, which meant we’d be shooing customers out the door soon.

Hopefully, tonight would be one of the nights Ryder and I ended up in the back of his car for a fun time.

It’d be easy and far more comfortable to head over to Ryder’s apartment once the bar closed, but that felt too boyfriendy.

Meeting up at his apartment so late at night made it too easy for one or both of us to fall asleep afterward.

The thought of accidentally waking up to the morning light in Ryder’s giant bed was enough to keep me from accepting the occasional offer to drive there instead of jumping each other in the SUV.

Sneaking out of someone’s bed while they slept sucked, but confronting Ryder after a night in his bed would be worse. He’d be all mussed and sleepy, probably naked or at least bare-chested.

He might have morning wood.

Shit.

I’d have to pretend to be unaffected, which was the real problem. The more time I spent with Ryder, the more I liked the guy.

And that was plain stupid.

“Hey, Ally…” Trevor jogged toward me, shouting over the music. His bowtie was askew, and a sheen of sweat made his gold glitter shimmer brightly beneath the lights.

I stopped collecting glasses onto my tray. The guys at my two tables were all from one bachelor party and had closed out a few minutes ago, not wanting to be caught in the rush of everyone leaving the moment the lights brightened. “What’s up? Need help at your table?”

He shook his head, holding a phone out to me. “Your phone won’t stop ringing. I’m sorry I went into your locker, but I remembered your combo from when you told me a while back. It was quicker than getting you first.”

My stomach plummeted like a roller-coaster drop.

Anytime my phone rang at work, I feared my mom was having a medical emergency.

Parker had a strict no-cell-phone policy for his employees but understood my situation and wouldn’t have a problem with me checking on my mom.

“No. Thank you, Trev. You did the right thing.” I grabbed the phone from his open palm.

Six missed calls from Kenny.

“Fuck.” I hit his contact and held the phone to my ear.

“I’ll be closing out my tables. If you need me, come get me.” He squeezed my arm before darting back to his area.

I couldn’t hear the ringing over the loud music, so I hustled to the locker room. “Hello?” an unfamiliar voice answered as soon as I entered the staff room. “Kenny? Who is this? Where’s Kenny?”

“This his brother?” The gruff voice was hard to make out over shouting and music in the background on his end.

“Yes,” I shouted into the phone as though I’d hear him better at a higher volume. “This is Alex. Is Kenny okay?”

“Yo, man, you gotta come pick up your bro. He’s fucked up, and he pissed some people off. Messed with the wrong guy. I don’t want him here no more, but he’s too fucked up to leave on his own.”

Fucking Kenny. My heart slammed against my ribcage. I clutched the phone so hard I risked shattering the screen. “Is he hurt? Does he need an ambulance?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. Nah, prolly not. He’s just fucked up.”

What the hell did that mean? Injured? High? Was he bleeding out or unconscious? “Can I talk to him?”

“Nah, he ain’t making much sense… too out of it. Look, dude, you gotta come get his sloppy ass. I got ’im away, but they’re gonna come looking for him soon.”

Who? What the hell had Kenny done to have people searching for him?

“Should I call the cops?”

Wrong question.

“Fuck no!” the guy screamed, sounding clear as a bell for the first time since the call started. “Cops show up, I’ll know it was you. You don’t want that, man.”

I grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged as I paced the small locker room. “All right. No cops. Promise. Text me the address. I’m leaving now to come get him.”

“No fucking cops.”

“You have my word.”

“That don’t mean shit to me,” he said before the phone disconnected.

I swear my heart stopped in the seconds when I waited for him to text the address. Just as I was about to dive into a full-blown panic attack, my phone chimed.

“Thank fuck,” I whispered.

“I heard.” Trevor’s voice at the door had me nearly jumping out of my skin. “Go. I’ll take care of your tables.”

I set my phone down and opened my locker, grabbing the first item of clothing I could reach, my sweatpants. “I gotta let Parker know.”

Trevor waved my concern away. “I’ll take care of you. You just concentrate on getting to Kenny. Once you’re home and everyone is okay, let me know, okay? No matter what time it is.”

I glanced up at him from where I’d bent over to tug on my boots. “Thanks, Trev.”

“Of course.”

He left, and I was alone to shove my arms into my jacket. I grabbed my beanie, phone, keys, and wallet, then ran from the room with my jacket flapping open and my boots untied.

Sprinting through the crowded club was never easy, but using the employee entrance made it faster than going through the main entrance.

“What the hell? Where are you going?” Ryder stared at me, incredulous, as I darted past him, fully clothed.

I couldn’t spare the time to stop and tell him, so I waved a hand in the air. “Trevor knows.”

“Are you okay?” he shouted, but I didn’t answer. I just continued running toward the door with visions of Kenny dying rolling through my brain. I couldn’t imagine having to tell my mom something happened to her youngest son. It would destroy her.

My boots crunched over half an inch of freshly fallen snow. There wasn’t time to properly clean off my car, so I used my sleeve to clear the windshield enough to see through it. My heart pulse thundered in my ears as I slipped into the frigid car.

With shaking hands, I shoved the key in the ignition and started the car. The engine turned over twice, then sputtered and died.

Nothing new, but now was not the time.

“Come on. Come on,” I whispered as I tried again.

And failed again.

And again.

And another five times.

“Come one, motherfucker. Start.”

It didn’t.

“Goddammit!” I shouted, slamming the heel of my palm against my steering wheel. “Fuck!” I gripped the wheel with all my might, resting my forehead on it as I screamed through clenched teeth. “Fuck,” I whispered. “What do I do?”

Uber. I’d have to get an Uber, which would take longer. And would they even let me put Kenny in the car? It might depend on the state I found him in. I refused to even think of what the car repair bill would be. Perhaps it would be better to find a new old car to drive.

“I’m fucked,” I whispered.

A knock at the window had me jumping so hard that I whacked my knee on the steering wheel. The adrenaline coursing through my veins made it so I didn’t even feel the collision.

Ryder stood at my window, bundled for the weather and so damn handsome it should be criminal.

“What?” I barked as I manually cranked down the window.

“Get in my car. It’s on, and it’s warm. I’ll take you wherever you need to go.” His breath wafted out in a white cloud of steam.

I blinked. “I…” Ryder was bailing me out of trouble. “Really?”

He grinned. “Yes, really. Don’t be stupid. Please get out and hop in my car. You seemed like you were in a rush.”