Page 16 of Never Your Girl

I pop a brow. “Oh?”

Well, color me surprised.

“The first one is a digital platform that pairs college athletes with local businesses for sponsorships and endorsements.”

Even though I secretly think it’s an interesting idea, I roll my eyes. “Of course your brain would go there first. What else do you have?”

“How about a sustainable clothing line that only uses recycled and eco-friendly materials? The pitch could focus on filling a growing demand for green fashion that targets Gen Z and Millennials who care about the environment.”

Damn. That’s actually good.

I’d rather rip out my own vocal cords than admit it, though.

“Hmmm. I suppose that could work.” When his brows rise, I add, “Let’s just say I don’t totally hate the idea.”

His eyes narrow.

The fact that I can annoy him so easily calms me in a way nothing else can.

“I jotted down a few others,” he grinds out. “Should I continue?”

I wave a hand. “Nah. We’ll just go with that one. I’m sure you mentally taxed yourself coming up with the first two.”

“Not even close. I’ve got six other ideas ready to go. Want to hear them?”

A small smile spreads across my lips. “Nope. That’ll work.”

He taps his fingers on the table in a slow and deliberate rhythm as he contemplates me. “Are you certain?”

“Positive.”

He grunts before moving on. “I’ll take product development and financials. You can handle branding and social media.” There’s a pause before he adds, “You know, the fluffy stuff.”

“Fluffy stuff?” Is he kidding? “I didn’t realize financial projections could be done by someone who skated through his math classes because his daddy’s chancellor of the university.”

A muscle pops in his jaw before ticking a mad rhythm, but he doesn’t miss a beat. “Daddy’s never done a damn thing for me. And I didn’t realize you’d want to tackle market research. Do you even know the difference between organic cotton and recycled polyester?”

“I know exactly what they are,” I fire back, my blood starting to boil. As much as I hate to admit it, arousal blooms in my core. It’s so sick and twisted.

Am I seriously getting off on our verbal sparring?

The answer to that question is yes.

Yes, I am.

I quash it before continuing. “And I understand that we need them both if we want to stand out in a market that’s oversaturated with people trying to be ‘eco’ without any actual commitment. How about you handle social media and branding, and I’ll work on something with a little more substance.”

Bridger leans forward, his gaze sharp. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot to say about people who pretend to care about sustainability. Let me guess… personal crusade of yours?”

“It’s called integrity, Sanderson. Try looking it up sometime.”

He laughs, the sound low and annoyingly attractive. “Fine, Tate. Have it your way. You take product development and the financials. I’ll figure out what our branding and social media presence will look like. Just know that you better bring A-level work. There’s no way I’m taking a hit to my grade just so you can attempt to prove something.”

“Excuse me? I’m a four-point-oh student and can run academic circles around you.” When he opens his mouth to argue, I raise my hand. “You know what? Let’s stop bickering and just get to work. We’re wasting time.” I can’t resist tacking on, “Not to mention brain cells. And you have so few to spare.”

Satisfaction floods through me when his lips tighten into a thin line and he growls out his response in one snappy syllable. “Fine.”

Even though it’s tempting to glance at him, I force myself to open a new document on the computer and start typing notes. With his gaze pinned to mine, ignoring him feels impossible.

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