Read Online PULSE: A Stepbrother Romance by Sarah Sparrows - Free Book Online

it disappeared in the distance. “I
helped him get your things out, but he was in such a hurry that we just put it
all down there.” I turned to glance up at her as she glared down from the
second floor. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

 
    “That doesn’t
sound like him…are you at least going to give me a hand with this stuff?”

 
    I savored the
moment, recognizing how counterproductive it was to alienate her. Still, I
couldn’t help but put her in her place. “I already was , before you were so rude to me a few minutes ago. Why don’t you figure it out?”

 
    “Seriously?”
She groaned in disgust.

 
    Throwing her
head to the side, she looked absolutely beautiful. I loved to see her bothered.
She was so undeniably attractive when she was scornful.

 
    “If you
apologize for slamming the door in my face, I’ll consider it.”

 
    “Sawyer,
you’re the worst.”

 
    “I’ll take that
as a ‘no’,” I smirked as I wandered past the pile of suitcases and towards the
kitchen. “Good luck with all of that. At least you’ll build up some muscle on
that scrawny figure of yours.”

 
    “You’re a
total asshole. You know that, right?”

 
    I chuckled to
myself. “Hard to forget with you around.”

 
    I hated to
admit it, but it was way too fun to push her buttons. She never played along
with it, and that only made it that much more entertaining to me. We could have
the kind of relationship where we constantly tug-of-warred against each other,
just getting our kicks out of subtly pissing each other off. Instead, she just
took it and cursed at me from afar. It had been the case before I left, and it
was apparently going to be the case now that I was back.

 
    While I heard
her scuffle down the stairs to assess the level of difficulty she’d face with
the luggage, I rummaged in the refrigerator.   Fully stocked, as I’d expected.   Digging around in the crisper, I
withdrew a fresh, green apple, washed it under the sink, and took a crispy
first bite out of the flesh.

 
    My thoughts
wandered back to our relationship – and how I loved to push her for my
own amusement and satisfaction. There was more to it than that, and I knew it.

 
    With every
slight barb, every last irritation I inflicted upon her, I distanced myself
from the thing that could tear us both apart.

 
    I loved
Saffron.

 
    My teenage
feelings hadn’t disappeared with age,
and it was time that I confronted that fact.   I’d been crazy about her while we lived
together – enough that I realized how much of a problem it was. I
couldn’t have her. I could never have
her.

 
    But I was
weak, and I needed her, because she was just so fucking beautiful. Not just on
the outside, though. With all the time we spent together, I was constantly
shown the way that she looked at the world, and my cynical worldview was
challenged by her insurmountable compassion and adoration.

 
    But
compassion and adoration aren’t happiness, and I knew that she was still
unhappy. Sure, her mom had let the past go, and had adapted well to the new
lifestyle offered by marrying my father. But Saffron carried around a deep
anxiety that our parents didn’t see.

 
    Apparently,
only I could.

 
    It was
subtle. Something in her eyes, sometimes. When she was feeling particularly
down, her fingers would drum in a certain pattern. It was easy to hide it,
because she was always drumming her fingers, but I had figured out that she
always did it in reverse when she was sincerely upset.

 
    You’d never
tell by just looking at her. She wasn’t as unstoppably cheerful as her mother,
and she usually kept herself in pretty high spirits on the outside. But my
little sister had figured out how to hide in plain sight – a coping
mechanism, maybe. I knew that she had some bad blood with her father, and that
she had to grow up quickly to try and help her mother. I figured that she just
learned how to put on a happy smile and radiate