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I don’t like that last possibility.
But I can’t ignore how Schultz is constantly pinning me down with his bright blue eyes. Standing too close to me. Sneaking a suggestive tone into every statement.
Once I’ve sat down across from him at the picnic table, he shoves the half-eaten basket of fries toward me. I shake my head again. I don’t want anything in my mouth that he already touched.
“So,” he says, taking a slurp of his soda. “What did you find out?”
“I went to the street races last night. Levi was there. I told him my brother’s not selling for him anymore. So he made me pay for the product you took, and he said I have to sell for him instead.”
“Good.” Schultz grins.
“I didn’t really see who Levi was hanging around with that night. The cops came and broke it up before anything else happened.”
I see a little gleam in Schultz’s eye.
“I know,” he says. “One of the attendees got in a chase with a couple of squad cars. Do you know Nero Gallo?”
Even the sound of his name sends a flush of heat up the back of my neck.
I try to keep my expression neutral.
“We went to the same high school,” I say.
“The officers thought he had a brunette in the car with him. Do you know who that might be? I noticed your Trans Am down there. I stopped them from impounding it, by the way.”
“Thank you,” I say, stiffly.
He finishes the last bite of his burger, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. Staring at me the whole time.
“So was that you?” he says. “Were you speeding around with Nero?”
I impulsively grab one of his french fries, to give myself a second to think. It’s already lukewarm and soggy. It tastes like grease and salt.
I chew hard and then swallow.
“No,” I lie.
“Camille,” Schultz purrs, his blue eyes drilling into me. “This isn’t going to work if you lie to me.”
“I barely know Nero,” I say.
“You do know him, though.”
I hesitate. “Yes.”
“Have you ever fucked him?”
“NO!”
Now the heat has risen all the way up to my cheeks. Schultz is grinning. He loves unnerving me. He thinks it lets him read me.
“Not even once? I hear he’s got some kind of golden cock. The ultimate Casanova, right? Girls throwing their panties at him like he’s Justin Timberlake?”
Schultz is sneering, but there’s an edge of jealousy to his words. He’s handsome, fit. He thinks he deserves that kind of female attention himself.
“Maybe you should date him,” I mutter.
Schultz glares at me, then gives a fake hearty laugh.
