Page 42 of Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1)

RYDER

After a lengthy shower in which we wasted plenty of water getting each other off again, Alex and I made the frigid walk to a trendy café two blocks from my apartment building.

He reached the entrance first and grabbed the door, stepping aside to hold it open for me. My stomach fluttered at the considerate gesture. “Thanks.”

As we stepped inside, warmth and the mouth-watering scents of cinnamon and coffee surrounded us, making my stomach growl.

Grunting out a laugh, Alex stomped the snow off his boots onto the rug and then walked toward the short line of customers waiting to order. “Hungry much?”

“Yes.” Trailing after him, I had to press my lips together to keep from whistling at the sight of that gorgeous ass in his sweatpants. “I’m fucking starving.”

He glanced over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. “Sure, you haven’t had enough to eat?”

“Never.”

He grinned. Lighthearted Alex didn’t poke his head out to play too often, especially not around me, so I lapped up that easy smile like a thirsty dog. “What are you thinking?” I asked as we moved to the on-deck spot in line.

Alex craned his neck to see the glass display cases housing rows of delicious pastries and breakfast treats.

He said something, but my attention was locked on the deep purple bruise rising from the collar of his winter coat.

My cock twitched. Damn, he looked good with my mark on him.

I’d sucked a few hickeys in other places as well.

Too bad I’d been too horny in the shower to think about enjoying them up close and personal because the love bite on his neck was so sexy. I wanted to lick it right there.

Again.

“Ryder?” Alex’s forehead wrinkled. “Did you hear me?”

I blinked. “What? Sorry, I got distracted. What were you saying?”

He gave me a skeptical look before shaking his head. “Coffee cake. That cinnamon scent is driving me wild. I’m getting the coffee cake.”

You’re driving me wild.

“That sounds good, but I think I’m going for the bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. Need the protein, you know?” I said with a wink.

Alex chuckled as a customer in front of us shifted down the counter toward the order pick-up sign. He stepped up to the counter before me because my brain was still admiring the mark I’d left on his neck.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” A curly-haired barista with an ear full of diamond studs and a tiny septum ring beneath her nose smiled at us. She wore a navy-blue apron with an embroidered coffee mug in the center of her chest. “Welcome to Brewed Awakening. What can I get for you two today?”

I opened my mouth to order, but Alex beat me to it. “Can we get a large Americano with two shots, a large regular black coffee, one slice of coffee cake, and a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich?”

Whatever the barista said next was lost on me as I scraped my jaw off the floor. How on earth did Alex know my coffee order? Not just know it, but know it perfectly. He glanced my way with a shit-eating grin.

“How?”

He snickered. “Remember that time Parker bought coffee for everyone?”

“Yeah.”

Shrugging, he said, “I remembered.” Then his cheeks turned pink, and he glanced down as though suddenly realizing it might be strange that he memorized my coffee order after hearing it once.

Strange or not, the gesture made it hard for me to swallow. I liked that he knew that about me. Something so simple yet personal.

“Okay, gentlemen, that’ll be twenty-six dollars and forty-three cents. And is that for here or to go?”

“Here,” I answered, tapping my credit card against the reader before Alex had the chance to wiggle cash out of his wallet. He frowned, and I shot him a wink while the machine charged my card.

“And a name for the order?”

“Ryder.”

“All righty, here is your receipt. Enjoy your meal, guys.” She handed over the short slip of paper with hands adorned by two-inch-long neon green nails.

“Thank you.” I nodded at the barista, then turned to my scowling date. “Stop pouting and move down to get our food.” Smiling what I hoped was my most charming grin, I ushered him down to the end of the counter, where a few others mingled around waiting for their food.

“Ryder, I could have paid for that.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know,” I said again, bumping my shoulder to his. “I see how much you make in tips. You know, if you hold that grumpy facial expression for too long, your face might freeze that way.”

Finally, he snorted a laugh. “Who are you, my mom from fifteen years ago?”

“You were even grumpy as a kid?”

He nodded. “I prefer to think of it as serious.”

“Maybe, but you can be serious with a smile.”

“Ryder!” Another barista, a man with salt-and-pepper hair and a manager tag, stood by a tray with our food.

Alex lurched forward to grab the tray before I could, as though he thought it would compensate for not paying. There wasn’t anything to make up for, though we should probably talk about it once we sat.

We had a number of things we needed to talk about.

“Here, good?” Alex asked as we approached a small two-person booth in the back corner of the café next to the emergency exit.

The air held a bit of a chill from the glass emergency exit, but the tables surrounding us would be empty.

Looked like I wasn’t the only one who realized we had to chat.

We shed our coats before sitting—I’d lent him one since he’d showed up at my house without—and I grabbed my drink off the tray, then took a long sip.

The hot liquid warmed me from the inside and had me sighing in pleasure.

“Nothing better,” I said as I leaned back in the seat. “Well, almost nothing better.”

Alex also drank from his mug with a grateful expression as though thanking the caffeine gods for the gift of energy. “Yeah, that’s good,” he said as he set the mug down. Then his eyes widened. “Oh, shit. I forgot I need to call a tow truck.”

I stilled as I watched him fish in the coat pocket for his phone. After seeing his reaction to me buying a single coffee and pastry for him, I realized I probably should have asked before making decisions on his behalf. This had the potential of blowing up in my face.

Would it matter that I’d had pure intentions? That I’d only wanted to make things easier for him?

“Um, wait,” I said as I reached across the small table and gently nudged the phone away from his ear. “Don’t call.”

Frowning, he lowered his arm. “Why not?”

“Well, there’s a chance I already took care of it.” I held his gaze. This felt like a pivotal moment for us, and I refused to back down.

His eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. “What do you mean there’s a chance you took care of it?” He pushed away his fork, his coffee cake forgotten.

Well, I didn’t forget a crumb of my breakfast. Fucking Alex twice in a few hours had me ravenous for food, among other things.

I took a bite of my sandwich, chewed, and swallowed before answering.

“I had your car towed to an auto shop. They texted while you were getting dressed. Your car will be ready this afternoon. And no, I refuse to accept any money, so you might as well deal with it.”

Here it came, the fury, the lecture about overstepping my bounds and throwing my money around. I rested back in my chair as I tried to prepare for whatever caustic words he’d throw my way.

But they didn’t come. Instead, he shook his head with a furrowed brow. “Why would you do that?” The genuine bewilderment in his voice and confusion in his dark eyes broke my heart. Had no one ever done something nice for him?

“I did it because I wanted to, Alex. For you. I wanted to do it for you, to help you out and make today a little less shitty for you.”

His shoulders sagged. “But… but why ? Ryder, you can’t stand me.”

I barked out a laugh so loud and so incredulous that it drew stares from halfway across the coffee shop. “Seriously?” I asked, leaning in. “You still think that after last night? Hell, after the last month?”

His eyebrows drew down, giving that gorgeous face the glower I’d come to expect. I’d seen him wear every expression imaginable, from fury to ecstasy, but this serious, slightly irritated one had to be my favorite.

“I… no. The last month has changed things for me too.”

I sighed. Beating around the bush wasn’t my style.

Saying most things didn’t come easily to me would be a blatant lie.

With money came privilege, and with privilege came safety.

I was used to asking for what I wanted and getting it, and I’d be damned if that didn’t happen here, even if I didn’t have an inch of a safety net in this situation.

I rested my forearms on the table, leaning in as far as possible. My heart rate accelerated, making me feel like I’d chugged four mugs of double espresso in minutes. I was about to hand Alex a lot of power.

The power to hurt me.

The only people who’d ever had that power were my family.

Given the state of my relationship with my father, I wasn’t feeling too confident about giving another person influence over my emotions.

But I had no choice. Alex couldn’t continue thinking I didn’t like him, not when I wanted him so fiercely and for more than just our physical chemistry.

“I’m just going to lay it all out there, Alex.

I do not hate you. Never have. There’s no denying I was a dick to you.

I didn’t… I never thought beyond showing off for my buddies back then.

I have no excuses. It was shitty of me. I own that, and I’m so sorry for it.

I made snap judgments without knowing anything about you or your life. And now—”

“I don’t want your pity.” His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“And you don’t have it. I promise.”

He nodded.

“But I… care. So I feel like shit for how I treated you, and I don’t like knowing you struggle.” I shrugged. “But it isn’t pity. It’s just… giving a shit.” God, I was bad at this. Could I blame my parents for not being able to express my feelings well, or was that all on me?