Free Tracers by J. J. Howard Page B

it?” he said, taking a step closer.
    â€œHey, you’re bleeding!” Nikki took his injured left hand. Gently, she unwound the now-bloody strip of T-shirt. “You need to wash this out,” she told him, and led him over to the kitchen sink.
    â€œIt’s fine,” Cam said, feeling embarrassed, as though by looking at the wound she’d be able to figure out he’d been lying about its source.
    â€œDon’t be such a tough guy, Cam. You don’t want it to get infected.”
    â€œNo. I don’t want that.” Cam was distracted. She had rinsed away the blood and was now gently drying his hand with a paper towel.
    â€œI think they’ve got a first-aid kit down here.” Nikki knelt down to open the cabinet under the sink. “Only because I
put
it here,” she added, rolling her eyes and smiling as she stood up. She opened the small plastic case, found a big adhesive bandage, and pulled it out along with a packet of ointment. “This might sting a little,” she said, carefully dabbing some of the antibacterial gel on his cut.
    â€œIt’s fine,” he said. Something had tightened in Cam’s chest that made it hard to speak.
    It was a little thing, her putting a bandage on his cut hand. But it had been a long time since anyone had taken care of him like that.
    â€œThere. All set. Just try to keep it dry until tomorrow.”
    â€œThank you,” he said, his voice coming out oddly hoarse.
    â€œYou’re welcome.” Nikki’s eyes met his, and the moment stretched between them . . . but then that guarded look came over her face again.
    She turned around and busied herself with pulling the plastic cover off the veggies, and the moment was over.
    â€œYou’re missing the game!” Jax called.
    â€œComing,” Cam said, but then turned back to Nikki. “Unless you need any help?”
    â€œNope. All set.”
    Cam sat down on one of the couches. He watched Nikki stop for a second, glance at the empty space beside him, and then choose a spot beside Jax on the other couch.
    â€œYou a Jets fan?” she asked Cam.
    Yep, and we’re having some great weather today too,
Cam thought. He realized he was frowning when he saw his expression reflected on Nikki’s face. “I guess not,” she added.
    â€œI’m really more of a Giants guy, actually,” he said. The three-legged dog jumped up beside Cam again and he scratched its ears.
    â€œLooks like you made a friend.” Nikki smiled at him. The dog seemed to hear her, and chose that moment to sprawl out across Cam’s lap, letting out a massive sigh.
    â€œThey say animals are good judges of character,” she added.
    Jax and Tate let out a loud cheer as the Jets made a field goal.
    â€œYeah, I guess so, although I’m starting to lose feeling in my leg,” Cam replied, shifting his weight.
    â€œCome here, Sammy,” Nikki told the dog, patting her leg. All three of the dogs took that as an invitation, and they charged her. “No, I didn’t mean—Noodle, get
off
!” She pushed at the biggest of the three, laughing.
    â€œYou’re gonna have to burn those clothes,” Tate said. “You know your roommate’s not having that stink.”
    Nikki froze; she looked uncomfortable. She didn’t quite meet Cam’s eyes when she offered her one-word explanation: “Allergies.”
    The arrival of the pizza broke the strange mood Tate’s comment had created, and Cam was distracted by the food and conversation. He realized how long it had been since he’d done anything as simple—and nice—as sitting around with a bunch of friends, eating pizza and watching a game.
    When the game was over, and every scrap of pizza was gone (and even a few of the vegetables), Dylan invited Cam to train with them the next day.
    On the train home, Cam was still smiling—at Jax’s stupid jokes, at