Get Dirty by Gretchen McNeil Page B

place and he basically lets us run it. Pretty cool.”
    “It’s awesome,” Olivia said, trying to sound suitably impressed.
    “But we’re still in the game,” he said slowly, as if speaking in code.
    “The game?” What was he talking about: Murder? Arson? Assault and battery?
    “Yep. We’ve got our own studio now.” Maxwell stepped back and steadied his chin between his thumb and forefinger, appraising her body from head to toe. “How old are you?”
    Ew? “Sixteen.”
    A sly smile crept up the right side of Maxwell’s face as heslid closer to her and dropped his voice. “Have you ever thought about modeling?”
    Really? He was propositioning her? Desperate to change the subject, Olivia turned her attention back to the shirts. “I wonder if my boyfriend might like—”
    Maxwell traced Olivia’s bare arm with his finger, and whispered in her ear. “You know, there’s a huge market for sexy photos of a girl like you. Europe, Asia. No one would ever know. . . .”
    As much as she wanted to knee Maxwell in the crotch and make a run for it, Olivia was there for a reason. She needed to bring the conversation back to the school play.
    “Funny I should run into you here,” she began, fluttering her eyelashes. “I was just talking to Amber Stevens today, and she said she thought she saw you and your brother at the opening of the school play last week.”
    Maxwell snorted. “At Bishop DuMaine? I doubt it. We’re never setting foot back in that shithole.”
    “Are you sure?” Olivia continued. “She seemed pretty positive that it was—”
    “He said we weren’t there!”
    Olivia spun around. Maven Gertler stood in the back of the store, arms folded across his chest. Where did he come from?
    Involuntarily, Olivia backed toward the door. “Oh, sorry!” she said. “Amber must have been wrong.”
    “She is,” Maxwell said. His congenial attitude of ten seconds ago had completely vanished. Instead his face was sharp and tense, his eyes narrowed. “We wouldn’t violate the terms of our parole by going anywhere near a school, would we, Mave?”
    Maven shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
    So they weren’t allowed near a school? Based on her experiences in the last five minutes she understood why, but that did give them somewhat of an alibi.
    “And besides,” Maxwell added, “it’s kinda hard to see with all those stage lights in your face, isn’t it?”
    Olivia froze. Stage lights? How did they know that Amber was in the play?
    Suddenly, she was desperate to get out of there.
    “Oh my God!” she cried, looking at her wrist that was conspicuously devoid of a watch. “Look at the time! I’m going to miss my bus.”
    She was out the door and down the street as fast as her heels could carry her.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
    HarperCollins Publishers
    ..................................................................
EIGHTEEN
    BREE LAY ON HER SIDE. JOHN ’ S ARM WAS DRAPED AROUND her bare stomach, pulling her tightly to him as he spooned behind her. Never in her life had she felt so protected and loved.
    She sighed deeply, snuggling back into his arms.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    Bree laughed. “That’s like the millionth time you’ve asked me in the last hour.”
    “I know, it’s just . . .” He stroked her arm with his fingertips and her skin prickled with excitement. “You’ve got a lot going on.”
    Bree burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. It was the understatement of the century.
    John rolled his eyes. “Why is this funny?”
    “Sorry,” she said, through her heaves. “But you have to appreciate the humor.” She rolled over onto her back and counted on her fingers. “I’m under house arrest, suspected of murder, I’m in bed with my best friend, and someone might have tried to runme off the road yesterday morning. ‘A lot going on’ is an understatement.”
    John tensed. “Someone tried to run you off the road?”
    “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Bree said,