Page 43 of Never Your Girl

“That,” he says with an infuriating smirk, “was me saving you from Garret Akeman’s feeble attempts at flirting. The guy has zero game. You’re welcome.”

“You’re the last person I need to save me.”

He shrugs, clearly unbothered. “Could’ve fooled me. It looked like you were floundering.”

“Floundering?” I glare up at him, ignoring the way my heart races at his proximity. “You’re such a conceited?—”

It’s only when someone clears their throat that I bite back the rest of my comment.

We both turn toward the guy behind the counter.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he mutters. “What can I get for you?”

“She’ll take the McNichols Special.”

“Excuse me? Exactly when did you start making decisions for me?”

“Since we became a couple. Remember, muffin?”

A growl builds low and deep, vibrating through me. It’s so tempting to snap my teeth at him.

“Better make it extra grande,” Bridger adds with a wink. “Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

Oh my God, he did not just say that!

“Coming right up. Name on the order?”

“Muffin.”

“Make sure you sleep with one eye open, Sanderson. Because I’m getting out of this relationship.” I drop my voice before narrowing my eyes. “One way or another.”

He flashes a grin. “You’re adorable when you’re all riled up.”

With that, he tosses a few bills on the counter and presses a kiss against the tip of my nose. “This one’s on me.”

I release a frustrated groan as he saunters toward the exit, his confidence seemingly unshaken. There is no damn way I’ll be able to put up with Bridger Sanderson for more than twenty-four hours straight.

Even that’s pushing it.

14

Bridger

A smile quirks the corners of my lips as I push through the door of the Roasted Bean. Holland Tate is a live wire, always ready to spark. Riling her up has become something of a sport to me. One I’m starting to enjoy a little too much.

The way her eyes ignite with fire is addictive.

Added bonus—it takes my mind off all the other bullshit in my life.

My amusement fades when I find Garret waiting outside, his expression murderous as he closes the distance between us.

“What the hell do you want, Akeman?” I snap, all my good humor fading. He’d been up my ass all through practice this morning.

It’s like everywhere I go, there he is.

The strange part is that we’ve been teammates for years and never had any issues.

Were we tight?

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