I stepped past him and then put my back to the brick so I could see the corner where Sam would stop. He turned to face me, pinning me with the same heated stare we'd shared inside. Clearly, he didn't get that I wasn't interested in whatever he was peddling.
"I don't do drugs," I informed him. Leaving the emotion out of my tone kept the needed distance between us.
The son of a bitch smirked. "Neither do I."
I rolled my eyes. "Sure you don't." I believed that almost as much as I believe in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy.
He crossed his heart and held up three fingers like he was some sort of modern-day fucking Boy Scout. "Never touched the stuff."
It was easier to remain aloof if I wasn't lost in his brown eyes. I let my gaze linger on the stop sign where Sam should have been waiting. "Probably best in your line of work."