Tracers Read Online Free PDF

ones. Between the quality earbuds and the brand-new Sugino she’d bought for a stranger, she definitely had access to money.
    â€œWhat do you want?” she demanded, leaning over the side to peer down at him.
    Standing there, looking up at her, Cam was struck by the sudden, absurd thought that she was like Juliet standing on her balcony, as pretty as the sun, or whatever poetic business his ninth-grade English teacher had tried to drill into him.
    Cam forced his brain to focus. He didn’t know exactly what to say to the girl in the bucket, so he went with a version of the truth. “Thanks. For the bike.”
    She looked down at him, warily—like he’d been the one to chase her up there or something. “You’re welcome.” Her voice was clipped, as though the words were hard to say.
    She seemed very wary of him. On second thought, definitely not very Juliet-like.
    â€œWhere’d you learn to do parkour?” he asked her.
    Hoodie girl rolled her eyes.
    â€œWhat, didn’t I say it right?”
    â€œI gotta go.”
    Cam raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, clearly you’re in a gigantic hurry. That’s a real fast lane you’ve chosen up there.” When she didn’t answer, he pressed on. “What’s your name?”
    She looked away, biting her lip. It seemed like there were a lot of things she didn’t want to say. Apparently even her name fell into that category.
    â€œYou ride?” Cam asked her, figuring he’d distract her with some misdirection.
    She sniffed like he’d offended her. “That bike’s a ball and chain.”
    â€œYeah, well . . . anybody can climb a tree,” Cam shot back.
    She smiled, though for some reason it seemed involuntary. “I’d like to see that.”
    It wasn’t much of an opening. But he figured, what the hell?
    It was easy enough to climb up onto the truck. Then he started to scale the metal arm. She’d scrambled up in a matter of seconds, but Cam was treating it more like a balance beam—moving slowly, trying not to lose his footing. The angle of the metal arm was a lot steeper than it had looked from the ground. Or maybe she’d just made it look much too easy.
    He was maybe six feet away from the bucket, but he was starting to lose his footing. Moving slow wasn’t going to get him up into the bucket where she stood.
    â€œMaybe you should stick to the bike,” she told him. But her voice had lost that clipped tone. She was almost smiling.
    Cam shot her another look. Okay, that cinched it.
    â€œScrew it.” He took the last few steps at a run and jumped into the bucket, landing beside her.
    They stood face-to-face.
    â€œI’m Cam,” he said, with the little bit of breath he had left. They were so close, their bodies were almost touching.
    â€œNikki . . .”
    Nikki.
This close, she was even more . . .
more
than he’d realized the day before. Her skin was pale, but she had a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. You’d have to be close up to even see them. Her lips were full . . . Cam had to force himself to stop staring at them. He could hear her breathing. The strange hold she’d had over his thoughts the last twenty-four hours was nothing compared to the effect of standing so close to her. He heard her breath catch.
    â€œShow me something else,” he said, his voice low.
    Nikki was staring at him. Maybe considering.
    And then, without a word, she hopped up onto the edge of the bucket and jumped.
    Cam forgot to breathe for a few seconds, stepping to the edge and looking down to see her land on the stairs of a nearby parking garage. She took off at a run—up the stairs.
    The roof was her destination. Cam looked down. It hadn’t been easy getting up here. Getting down would be worse, but it’d be over much faster. He held his breath and jumped.
    He was already pretty sure