Page 36 of Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1)

Alex climbed into the back seat after his brother.

He reached across Kenny’s body and fastened the seat belt around him.

I stayed by the door, waiting for him to exit, but he buckled himself in next to Kenny instead.

“I’ll just stay back here with him. In case…

.” He shrugged and wouldn’t meet my gaze.

His expression reverted to the one I’d seen so often after I began working at Top Shelf—annoyance, anger, and intolerance of my presence.

“Okay. Sure.” I fought to subdue the wave of disappointment rising from my core. “Makes sense.” What did it matter where Alex sat? Of course, he’d want to sit in the back with his injured and stoned brother to make sure he was all right. Who wouldn’t?

Yet, as I climbed behind the wheel and glanced at the empty seat beside me, I couldn’t help but feel rejected. I’d gone from savior to taxi driver in the blink of an eye.

“Where am I taking you guys?” I asked as I opened the map app on my phone.

Alex rattled off an address on a street unfamiliar to me. I glanced in the rear-view mirror to find Kenny already slumped against his brother’s shoulder, passed out and breathing through an open mouth—breathing through a nose as swollen and bloody as his wouldn’t be pleasant.

According to my app, the trip to Alex and Kenny’s home would only take five minutes.

They lived exactly one point six miles away.

The idea of them living so close to this shithole had me frowning at my phone.

I’d known Alex didn’t come from money like most of us when we’d met at camp.

Hell, it was the reason we’d given him the nickname ‘freeloader,’ but I’d never considered his family situation beyond our immature taunts.

Thinking of him and his family struggling caused guilt to bring the way we’d treated him back then to the forefront of my mind. We’d been assholes, plain and simple.

No one spoke as I navigated to their home. Every few seconds, I glanced in the mirror to find Alex staring out the window with an unreadable expression, while Kenny slept against his shoulder with audible exhalations, a combination of a snore and a pant.

What was Alex thinking about? The second we saw his brother, he’d transitioned from worried but reachable to downright closed off. Any progress I’d made drawing out a laugh or two vanished into an abyss of a mood I couldn’t decipher.

Was he mad at me? Because I wouldn’t stay in the car?

Maybe. But I didn’t regret it.

I didn’t know the man well enough to understand how his mind worked.

I knew him well enough to be certain he liked it when I tongued the slit of his dick and how his eyes rolled back in his head when I sucked his balls.

Or that he groaned every time I added a little twist of the wrist during a handy.

All too quickly, I pulled up in front of an older one-story house with peeling brown shingles, rusted gutters, and a dim porch light waiting for Alex’s return.

“Thank you,” Alex said the second I put my SUV in park. “I’m sorry we fucked up your night.” He somehow managed to position Kenny so he wouldn’t fall over while Alex climbed out of the SUV. Kenny slept on, blissfully unaware of the drama he’d caused.

“Alex…”

He stopped with his hand on the door handle. Our eyes met in the mirror.

“I was happy to help. Seriously.”

A single, solemn nod was all I received.

“Let me help you get him inside.”

“No!”

The answer came so quickly and with so much vehemence, I froze.

“I’ve got him. You’ve done enough.”

The words expressed gratitude, but his jerky movements and pissed-off tone were unsettling.

“How are you—” Alex grabbed his brother under the arms and hauled him out of the car. Then, in a move that had my jaw dropping, he squatted down and hoisted Kenny over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

His brother groaned. Dangling upside down with the blood rushing to his head couldn’t feel good with his injuries, but it would get him in the house with the least fuss unless Alex collapsed under his weight.

I pushed my door open and stepped one foot out. “Alex, this is silly. Let me help.”

He held up the hand not wrapped around his brother’s legs.

“I got it, Ryder. Really. You’ve done enough.

” He’d softened his tone some, but it still left no doubt as to whether he wanted my continued assistance or not.

“It’s late as fuck. Go home and get some sleep, and I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

Thank you again.” With that, he walked toward his house with his brother slung over his shoulder like he weighed no more than a sack of feathers.

I couldn’t help but gawk at the way his sweatpants stretched over his ass as his muscles worked harder than usual to carry the load.

Sure, I knew Alex was strong. One look at the guy’s size and shape, and anyone could see he had an impressive set of muscles, but damn, I didn’t realize he was carry-a-grown-man-with-ease strong.

I waited until he and Kenny disappeared into the house. He clearly didn’t want me inside his space. Despite the hour, a restlessness coursed through me. I didn’t want to go home alone and sleep.

But what did I want?

With a sigh, I glanced at the seat Alex had occupied before we picked up his brother.

I frowned as my gaze landed on something black and rectangular.

“Shit. His phone.” I shifted the car back into park and grabbed the cell.

No one could function without a phone these days. If I waited to return it at work tomorrow, he’d spend the day stressing about losing it and could end up in a lurch, especially if he needed to Uber somewhere since his car crapped out.

“Dammit,” I muttered as I exited the car. “He’s not gonna like this.” For whatever reason, he hadn’t wanted me inside his house. Whether ashamed of where he lived or pissed at me for an unknown offense, he’d be grateful I returned the missing device.

Right?

I jogged up to the door, which he’d left cracked open, probably because his arms had been full of a passed-out man.

“Alex?” I called through the crack as I pushed the door open.

“You left your phone in my…” The door swung open to reveal Alex kneeling in front of an electric wheelchair housing a woman probably in her late forties.

He’d been in the process of dressing a gnarly wound on her massively swollen foot.

Kenny lay on his side on a threadbare couch a few feet away with a trash can on the ground by his head. “Car.”

Alex leaped to his feet with fire shooting from his eyes. He wore gloves on his hands and held a thick wad of gauze. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” he screamed. “I didn’t invite you in. Get the hell out of my house!”

“Alex…” the woman admonished, eyes wide.

“I… I’m so sorry.” The entire scene had my brain shutting down. Alex had a mother with a severe disability. Was he her caregiver in addition to attending school, working, and managing an out-of-control brother?

How did he do it? How did I not know?

“Get the hell out,” he shouted again, making me jerk as though he’d hit me instead of merely yelling. The hatred in his voice jolted through me like a lightning strike.

“Sorry,” I said again. “You… your phone.” I held it up, then glanced around for somewhere to leave it. There wasn’t any place by the door, so I set it on the floor before me. “I’m sorry.”

Then I turned and fled the house back to my fancy car, where I drove to my luxury apartment, replaying the loathing in Alex’s gaze and the murder in his voice while recalling how many times I called him a freeloader.

No wonder he hated me.

So much for whatever fledgling connection we’d formed.