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“It’s gonna be okay.” The words, calm and reassuring, hung somewhere up above.
Nick’s fuzzy gaze meandered…across the toes of his leather oxfords…up the hems of his trousers jutting forward in crisp triangular points. The same fabric hung like curtains beside his cheeks while something silky and navy dangled, kissing his chin. What IS…my tie? He blinked sharply as snippets of murky memories—staggering through a doorway, landing hard on his butt, a muffled voice—flickered through his mind like the most miserable vacation slideshow imaginable, culminating in one final recollection: a lurch forward and the silent stillness of everything going dark…
SHIIIT!
A surge of embarrassment ripped through him. “I-I have to—” Swatting his tie away from his mouth, Nick threw his head back, his vision a rattled swirl of two-story buildings and cloud-mottled sky until his spine collided with an unforgiving bench.
“Careful,” the voice urged.
Too late.
Stars speckled Nick’s groggy gawp as a swell of dizziness swirled the puffy clouds like a merry-go-round of cotton balls. His right hand scrambled up his tie, clutching its decimated knot for stability. Stop the ride, I want off! Heavy with exhaustion, his eyelids bowed, followed by his chin…slowly…meeting his chest.
“You’re safe here.” A hand gathered his fingers in a protective embrace. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Comforting and warm with the perfect amount of squeeze. Who was this angel?
As the lightheaded whirl of his pounding headrush subsided, Nick opened his eyes again. His glassy gaze crawled left, off his lap and across a cotton meadow of whimsical white and yellow flowers.
Evie? Sinking dread rolled through him as he peered up slowly. She witnessed every pathetic second. His ears burned. Fuck.
“How you feeling?” She leaned in, concern softening her squint.
“Tired, headachy,” he croaked, his tongue like sandpaper. Glancing around the small, stone-walled yard, he saw two green recycling bins, a rogue traffic cone, and a sand-filled bucket peppered with cigarette butts kept them company. A back door, which Nick assumed belonged to her mum’s shop, remained closed and free of onlookers. Thankfully. He swallowed languidly, an embarrassing but necessary question bubbling up. “Did I pass out?”
“Only for a few seconds,” said Evie. “You were pale and wobbly just before. I told you to put your head between your knees, just in case.”
“So that’s why I was…”
Evie nodded. “Bent over.”
“Less distance to fall.”
“But you didn’t. I held your shoulders.”
A shaky breath left his lungs. “Thank you. You saved me from a bloody nose…and a lot of questions.” Grateful, Nick grinned sheepishly. “What happens in Orkney, stays in Orkney, right?”
Her forehead creased. “Sorry?”
“Like the tourism slogan for Vegas.”
She stared back blankly.
Dumbass! Like she’d know. Nick muted his smile, worried his flippant reference made Evie feel dense. “It’s from an advertisement. It means whatever happens there goes no further. No one will hear about it.”
“Ohh. Yeah, I won’t tell a soul. Cross my heart. Not even Sam.” Her thumb stroked his hand slowly, back and forth. “Do you remember coming out here?”
The gentle brush of skin against skin pulled Nick’s focus down toward the bench, her touch merciful and surprisingly calming. “Um…sorta?” He blinked, his thoughts fuzzy yet overwhelmed by her unexpected compassion. Is this for real? Clearing his throat, he looked up.
Her eyes widened. “Oh! Sorry.” She pulled her hand away. “I didn’t mean to be so…”
“Kind?” Untethered, Nick craved her closeness again, the familiar ache of loneliness swelling in his chest. “It was nice, actually. Comforting.”
A sweet smile stretched her lips.
“Did I look…weird?” Nick whispered, seeking reassurance. “Before—in the shop with everyone?”
“No. A bit sweaty, but who doesn’t sometimes.”
