PULSE: A Stepbrother Romance by Sarah Sparrows Page B

a
stunning bar area with a veritable fleet of liquors, it was my immediate choice
for a night out by myself. The dance floor wasn’t too bad either – the
local DJ was blaring the usual EDM fare, although scoping the place out showed
me that this disc jockey seemed to
actually know how to work with a crowd. Plenty of mid-twenties-somethings were
grinding and dancing on the floor when I fought my way to the bar, taking a
seat at an open spot and patiently waiting on the bartenders.

 
    I must have looked like I had money, because some
tanned, sunglasses-at-night asshole was at my side in record time.

 
    “Ayy bae, how
you doin’ tonight?” He flashed the kind of white teeth I expect that you get
from swishing bleach 24/7.

 
    “Don’t call
me bae , you don’t even know me.”

 
    I sighed,
glancing over at one of the staff. The three bartenders were accounted for,
taking drink orders from small pools of guests. The vapid flock of
self-entitlement clung to the wooden surface like packs of piranha, slathered
in not scales but designer clothes – instead of biting and pecking, they
shouted and squealed.

 
    It was
disgusting. I briefly locked eyes with one of them, standing away from the
crowd, and she shrugged knowingly with me.

 
    “Yo, you
gonna let me buy you a drink or what?”

 
    I’d almost
forgotten about the loser bothering me. “No, I’m good, thank you…I think I can
manage my own drink.”

 
    “Pfft…fine, bitch .” He wandered back through the
nearest throng. To my lack of amusement, he was greeted like a king, raising his
arms to a chorus of cheers and merriment.

 
    “ Broskie!” Some frat guy called out.

 
    “Yeaaahh!”
This one was some valley girl.

 
    Why am I even here , I thought
to myself.

 
    “Hi, sorry
about that…what can I get started for you?” He half-shouted the words over the
crowd, just before a round of cheers nearby.

 
    I glanced up,
into the eyes of a charming young bartender, leaning over the counter with both
palms down. With his ginger hair swept back behind his ears, he flashed a small
smile, and my eyes fell to his waistcoat and tie.

 
    “Yeah, I’ll,
uh…Malibu and Coke,” I told him loudly.

 
    “Cool. Can I
see your ID?”

 
    “Sure! One
second…” I withdrew the card from my pocket. I had thought better on bringing a
purse out to a club, considering that I had no idea how expensive the thing
really was.

 
    He looked at
it with a quick, quizzical look, then handed it back. “Long way from home,
huh?”

 
    “Yeah, ran
away to the circus.”

 
    He looked
over at the throng against the counter, and I followed his gaze. “Well, I think
you found it, although it doesn’t look like you’ll fit in with ‘em too well…

 
    “Think you’re
right. Bad plan.”

 
    “Doesn’t mean
you’re in the wrong place.”

 
    We shared a
smile, and he got to work mixing my drink. While he did so, I couldn’t help but
resist whipping out my phone and checking on Sawyer. Unsurprisingly, he had
left for the night, but this time was different – he’d stopped at a local
bar.

 
    “A bar?” I’d
wondered aloud. It was interesting that he went to a bar the night that I did,
although there was no way that either of us were aware of the coincidence.

 
    “What’s
that?” The bartender asked, slapping a napkin square down and placing a drink
on it.

 
    “Oh, it’s
just a GPS app,” I mentioned without thinking.

 
    “Yeah? You’re
tracking something?”

 
    “Yeah, my
brother…” I paused, realizing what I was saying.

 
    “You’re
tracking…your brother …might I ask
why?” He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

 
    “It’s
complicated.”

 
    “…Right.
Well, I’ll leave you to it!”

 
    He gave a
parting smirk, darting away to take care of other guests.

 
    Great. One decent human interaction since coming
down here, and I blow it by being crazy.

 
    I was in too
foul