Page 45 of Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1)

A large hand-painted rainbow arched from the ground on one side of the door to the ground on the other side, originating and ending in a painted fluffy cloud. To the left of the door, a sign read True Colors LGBTQA+ Youth Center. All Welcome .

“How’d you get involved here?” I asked as he backed into a spot as far from the entrance as he could pick.

“A friend of mine volunteered here in college.” His face lit up as he spoke. “I tagged along one day when I was bored and have been coming ever since. Missed the fuck outta this place while I was gone.”

It didn’t mesh with the high school boy I’d known who called me freeloader , but it jived with the man I’d come to know today—the generous, non-judgmental man who’d helped my family and me without question.

Despite living in wildly different tax brackets, he hadn’t batted an eye at where I lived and didn’t seem to think less of me today.

It was exactly what I needed to shed any lingering hold our past had on me.

He killed the engine, which I had no idea how he remembered to do since his electric vehicle didn’t make a damn sound, then turned to me. “Ready?”

A sudden drenching wave of nervousness washed over me.

“Yeah,” I said with all the confidence I could muster.

I was shit with kids—wait, was I? Maybe not, but I had less than zero experience with them, so who knew?

But I’d basically raised Kenny, and look how he turned out.

He certainly wasn’t a ringing endorsement of my skills in mentoring the youth.

“Ready.”

“Great. Let’s do it.” He climbed out of the car as comfortably as if he were heading into his apartment. I followed suit with a bit less enthusiasm, but I tried to keep the terror off my face.

“Alex, relax,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re not going in for a root canal. They’re just a bunch of kids.”

“That might be easier,” I muttered.

Laughing and shaking his head, he took my hand and tugged me across the parking lot. “Come on, Mr. Anti-Social, imparting some wisdom to the youth of our city will be good for you.

“I’m not anti-social,” I said, refusing to melt over the way he still held my hand. I guess this was one of the perks of having a boyfriend. “I socialize my ass off four nights a week.”

“That’s not socializing. That’s work.”

Touché .

As we reached the door, I wondered what he’d do if I dropped his hand and raced back to the car like a world-class pussy.

But as I prepared to loosen my grip, Ryder abruptly stopped and turned to face me.

“Thanks for coming with me, Alex. This is… well, this is important to me, and it means a lot to share it with you.” A lightning-quick flash of uncertainty crossed the face of this self-assured man, whose confidence frequently crossed the line to blatant arrogance.

“Even my family doesn’t know I volunteer here. ”

This was a big deal to him. He let me into the most private and sacred part of his life.

I cleared my throat before I did something unthinkable, like choke up, then said, “We better get in. They might fire you if you’re late.”

He grinned and squeezed my hand, seeming to understand the subtext for the sappy excitement over the invitation that it was, even if I worried I’d embarrass the hell out of him by crashing and burning with the kids.

Ryder pulled open the heavy door and gestured for me to enter before him. When I narrowed my eyes, he laughed, then whispered, “You got me. I’m not just a polite boy. Sue me for wanting an extra peek of your ass.”

My eyes widened, and I elbowed him as I passed—that devil. Now, I was going to be walking into a youth center fighting an erection. Perfect.

I stepped in, and a rush of warmth spilled over me like a rolling wave. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh paint. A low hum of laughter, music, and muffled conversations blended, creating a gentle atmosphere of controlled chaos.

A mural stretched along the main wall—another radiant rainbow stretching across a clear blue sky dotted with plush white clouds. Bold, encouraging affirmations decorated the wall above and below the arc of the rainbow.

You are loved.

Your voice matters.

Be proud.

There were at least a dozen other mantras to empower the kids in a way I never had been.

Sure, I was damn lucky my mom never gave me grief about my sexuality, but that was more because her days were consumed with her illness.

I didn’t begrudge her that, and I’d take mild apathy over belittlement from a parent any day, but it would have been amazing to hear some of these declarations as a confused teenage boy.

Cushioned benches lined the walls of the open space.

Some were scattered with mismatched but plush pillows in every color imaginable.

Teens and tweens clustered around a wide, low coffee table in the center of the room, playing an intense game of Uno while another group leaned over a half-finished jigsaw puzzle, and another group sat at a table, completing what appeared to be homework.

On the far side of the room, a rainbow flag draped across a doorframe led to a cozy lounge area, where a few kids curled up with books or tapped away at their phones.

A bulletin board covered in flyers stood by the front desk with announcements for art classes, movie nights, basketball games, and support groups. Above it, a banner in shimmering gold letters read, Welcome Home .

I imagined this place literally saved lives.

My shoulders relaxed almost immediately. The anxious knot in my stomach began to unwind. If this center was a safe place for these kids, it could be for me as well.

A volunteer, a young woman with a shaved head and pierced lip sat behind the desk, mouthing along to the overhead song as she typed something into her dinosaur of a computer.

She wore a royal-blue polo shirt with a rainbow and the center’s name over her heart.

An enamel pin reading, Here For You , dangled from the collar of her polo.

Somehow, we caught her attention, and she glanced our way only to have a radiant smile break out across her face. “Ryder!” she practically shouted. “Micky mentioned you were coming today.”

The second Ryder’s name left her lips, heads popped up all over the room.

Two seconds after that, screeches, whoops, and shouts of “Ryder’s here!

” went up throughout the center. Then, before I had a chance to process the incoming tsunami of teenagers, Ryder’s hand ripped from mine as a gaggle of gangly arms and legs wrapped around him from all angles.

He sent me a rueful grin that I waved away right before turning his attention to the kids.

“Micky! What’s up, my man? Hey, Kimber, love the new hair color. TJ, can’t wait to hear how your school debate went,” and so on until I was beyond impressed with his memory and recall of each child and something personal from their lives.

My cold heart melted a fraction while I watched him display a monumental amount of patience as the teens and tweens began to pull him in all directions. “Ryder, you owe me a basketball game. Ryder, will you play Minecraft with me? Ryder, I need help with my math homework.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “Did they give you each ten sugar packets when you walked in the door today? Let me introduce you guys to someone before we do anything else.”

What felt like a million curious young gazes turned my way.

“Hey.” I lifted a hand for an awkward wave like the social superstar I was.

“Guys, this is Alex. He’s a pretty special dude, so go easy on him and don’t tell him any bad stories about me, okay?”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“They were holding hands!”

“I wanna see you guys kiss!”

“Does he have a big di—”

“Do not finish that question!” Ryder shouted above the roar of nosy kids. He shot me a bemused look. “So much for going easy on you.”

My face burned. I now completely understood the idiom ‘fish out of water.’

“Yes, you meddlesome monsters, he is my boyfriend, but that is the only question I’m going to answer about him. And no, you cannot see us kiss.” He winked at me. “But we sure like to.”

A chorus of awws went around the center until Ryder rolled his eyes. “Simmer down, you guys. Okay, I’ll try to get to everyone, but I’m telling you now, whoever needs homework help, Alex is your guy.” He pointed to me as he spoke. “My man is wicked smart.”

My damn face couldn’t get any hotter. Ryder seemed determined to have me combust into a pile of ash at this point.

A gentle hand tugged at my wrist. I glanced down to see a waif of a girl looking up at me with wide, jade green eyes. “Can you do math?”

I chuckled as I nodded. “I can.”

“Will you help me? I suck at math.” Her sweet face crumbled. “I’m in the remedial class for sixth grade.”

A boy at least a foot taller, threw an arm across her shoulders with a fierce scowl. “She struggles in math, but she is not dumb,” he said with all the ferocity of an older brother protecting his sibling. It also seemed to be a warning to me not to upset her.

“I’d never think you were dumb. I bet you just haven’t found the right method that works for you. I’d love to help with your math homework.”

The protective boy studied me for a moment, then nodded and stepped aside. I guess that counted as his seal of approval.

“My stuff is set up over there,” she said, pointing to a table.

I cast a glance at Ryder, who was already involved in a serious debate over which pizza restaurant was the best in Boston, so I followed the girl to her table.

Math, I could do. Math came easy to me. Hopefully, I could help this girl, whose name I still needed to learn.

The afternoon passed in a blink. One by one, kids came to me for assistance with their homework after my new friend, Alyssa, left with excitement and a newfound understanding of integer equations.

Ryder was the hit of the entire center. Each kid vied for his attention, gobbling up his smiles and praise like their favorite candy. Every so often, our gazes would meet, and he’d send me a wink or a private, pleased smile that made every ounce of nerves I’d felt worth coming here.

We were about an hour in when I realized I was having fun.

A lot of fun. These kids were funny, sweet, and full of so much energy that I could barely keep up.

But what took the afternoon from fun to spectacular was watching Ryder.

He was in his element working with these kids.

The career change to education made perfect sense.

My boyfriend was a natural and belonged in an environment working with kids.

He truly cared about every kid here, giving them his full, sincere attention.

When a few hours in, he mouthed thank you, I couldn’t stop myself from blowing him a discreet kiss like some sappy romance movie character.

If his father saw him in action, there’d be no way to deny this was where Ryder shone. As his new boyfriend, I’d make sure to not only tell him that but also stand by his side when his father fought against it. Nothing, not even parental pressure, should keep him from achieving this dream.