Page 49 of Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1)

I squeezed his hand as I said. “Someone needs to start talking right now.”

Mom shifted her gaze away from Kenny. “Your brother got arrested last night.”

My eyes widened. “Wha—”

“Again.”

“Oh shit,” Ryder whispered as my jaw hit the floor.

“What do you mean again?” I stared at my brother, who rolled his eyes like he was fifteen and caught staying out past curfew, not nineteen and spending time in jail. “Kenny, what is she talking about?”

He huffed an indignant sigh. “It’s nothing. The cops are fucking assholes. They have it out for me.”

My mom flinched at his language but didn’t interject.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What did you get arrested for?” Maintaining an even tone required considerable effort.

Ryder guided me to the table, pulled out a chair, and gently nudged me into it. Then he went to the coffee machine, where he pulled two mugs from the cabinet above our decade-old drip machine.

Kenny snorted and shook his head.

“Got something to say?” I asked as I narrowed my eyes.

“Excuse me. I’m going to finish getting ready.” Mom wheeled her motorized chair away from the table and down the hall toward her bedroom.

Part of me wanted to scoff and call her out on how she fled the scene every time her son caused a problem, and we needed to have a challenging conversation with the nineteen-year-old man-child who contributed jack squat to our little family.

But as usual, I bit my tongue. She had enough on her plate without me pressuring her to discipline her adult son, especially on a surgery day.

But I never had a problem putting Kenny in his place.

Not that it mattered to him. “Well?” I said as I folded my arms across my chest while Ryder sat next to me, setting my coffee in front of me.

He’d picked up on how I drank it—one packet of sugar, no cream—before we’d even started dating and never failed to hand me the perfect cup.

He, on the other hand, preferred a million shots of espresso, something we did not have in my house, but he’d never once complained about a mug of Folgers.

“Why’s he always gotta fucking be here?” Kenny asked with a near snarl. “Tired of hearing you two licking each other’s fucking assholes.”

My face burned, and anger simmered in my veins. “Jesus, Ken…” I knew this was his deflection, lashing out to keep us from talking about the real problem—his arrest. But still, I’d rather knock his teeth out than have Ryder subjected to this.”

“Alex can make his own damn coffee,” my brother continued as though I wasn’t two seconds away from punching him in the face. “Don’t let him treat you like his fucking bitch. What the fuck are you doing slumming with us anyway, rich boy?”

“Kenny!” I snapped. I started to rise, but Ryder’s hand landed on my thigh, keeping me in place. The warm contact immediately settled me from a raging boil to a low simmer, though if Kenny continued to run his mouth, I’d make sure he regretted it.

Ryder tilted his head as he stared at my brother with a neutral expression.

Only the narrowing of his eyes and the tension in his shoulders hinted at his anger over Kenny’s nasty words.

“You know what, Kenny? I’ve been trying to give you the benefit of the doubt for Alex’s sake,” Ryder said, his voice controlled but razor-sharp.

“But I’m starting to think you’re not worth the effort. ”

Kenny smirked. “Oh, did I hurt your feelings? Go cry about it in your fucking Range Rover.”

“My car?” Ryder laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“That’s what you’re fixated on? Jesus Christ.” He leaned forward.

“I’m not ‘slumming’ anywhere. I’m with Alex because he’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.

Something you’d understand if you weren’t so busy getting arrested or getting your ass kicked.

You’re welcome for helping you out, by the way. ”

“Fuck off,” Kenny spat. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I know enough.” Ryder’s grip on my thigh tightened. “I know you’ve been leeching off your brother for years. I know you’ve got every excuse in the book for why you can’t get your shit together. And I know you’re too damn selfish to see what it’s doing to your mom or Alex.”

Kenny’s face flushed with anger. “This is family business. You’re just—”

“Family?” Ryder cut him off. “Pretty sure I’ve been more family to your brother and your mom in the past few months than you have in years.”

A knot formed in my throat. I should step in, but Ryder was saying all the things I’d been thinking for so long.

“That’s rich coming from you.” Kenny sneered. “Playing house with my brother like you give a shit. We both know you’ll be gone as soon as you get bored with your little charity case.”

I gasped—bullseye right to my biggest fear.

Something dangerous flashed in Ryder’s eyes.

He stood slowly, palms flat on the table.

“Listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper that somehow felt more threatening than if he’d been shouting.

“Alex isn’t my charity case. He’s my boyfriend.

The man I’m building something with. And unlike you, I do give a damn about him.

” He straightened up. “So, you can call me whatever names you want. You can mock my car or how I like to make him coffee or whatever the fuck else makes you feel better about your own failures. But don’t you ever imply that what I feel for your brother isn’t real.

And for the record…” he said with a wicked smirk, “… there’s not a goddamn thing you could say or do to make me stop licking his ass, so keep your fucking opinions to yourself.

” The kitchen fell silent except for the hum of the refrigerator.

Kenny stared up at Ryder, his expression wavering between rage and something that almost looked like respect.

This was the moment where one right word from Kenny could turn his life around.

Where he could ask for help, apologize, or just not be a dick.

But instead, he rose from the table with so much force that his chair clattered to the floor.

“Fucking douchebags,” he muttered under his breath before storming out of the kitchen.

I flinched at the sound of his door slamming, then found Ryder’s gaze.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at me as he ran a hand over his stubbled face. “Shit, Alex, I’m sorry. I was out of line, yelling at your brother like that. He jus—”

I grabbed the front of his cashmere sweater as I shook my head. “No, you were perfect.”

Then I slammed our mouths together, kissing him with all the feelings I was afraid to voice.