Page 69
“Calm down?! “Don’t you dare!”
Nick swallowed hard, his stare hovering over the horizon. “This is my fault. I didn’t mean to cause any aggro.” He reclaimed the champagne and stood. “I should go.”
Sunita waved him off dismissively. “Yeah, buh-bye!”
“No, wait!” Evie pleaded. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” Brushing sand off her jeans, she scrambled to her feet as Fiona wandered over, her hand cozy in Rupert’s.
“Hey?” Fiona’s narrowed scrutiny ping-ponged between Evie and Sunita. “What’s…going on?”
“You okay, Nico?” Rupert’s attention dawdled on Sam.
Sunita huffed. “God, just what we need—more Balfour boys.”
“Rupes, I know you just got here, but could you give me a lift back?” asked Nick.
Nearby naughty laughter and the slam of car doors accompanied his younger brother’s awkward pause. “Uh…” Rupert nudged up his glasses as his wide-eyed blinks dashed between his brother and Fiona, who nodded warily. “I guess?”
“Nick.” Evie stepped closer. “Don’t go.”
Meeting her sad gape once more, he gave her a resigned grin. “No, really, I shouldn’t have gatecrashed. Congrats on your results. I’m honestly chuffed for you.”
Evie’s heart sank. “I’m so sorry.”
Nick squeezed her arm. “It’s okay. We’ll talk soon, yeah? I’ll message ya,” he whispered then walked away with Rupert, who hounded him with non-stop questions.
“Happy now?” Evie glared at Sunita and Sam, oblivious to Stuart and Puggie’s approach, their rowdy banter skidding into silence as they tramped past the Balfours. Humiliation blazed through her. “Now he’ll want nothing to do with me, thanks to you!” Impending tears stung her nose.
Fiona picked at the strap of her tote bag. “Should I even ask?”
Evie did a double take and spotted the boys, their arms crowded with heavy paper bags. Stuart flashed her a tense smile.
“Hey, cheer up!” Puggie shouted triumphantly as he dropped to his knees. “Reinforcements have arrived!” He emptied their haul on the blanket: lager, cider, coolers.
“Give us one!” Sunita claimed a neon-hued alcopop. “We all need a drink after that drama.”
Sam cleared his throat.
“I know, Sammy! I know!” Chin trembling, Evie couldn’t look at him as he strode off, the swell of hot tears threatening her lashes. She plopped down on the blanket and stared into the distance, cursing big brothers who stick their noses in where they’re not wanted.
Fiona sat by her side, eyes brimming with unspoken curiosity. “Eves, can I get you anything? Some water, crisps? I brought homemade toffee.” She dipped into her bag and pulled out a clean tissue.
“Thanks.” Evie sniffed. “How ’bout a new best friend? Got one in there, too?”
Fiona’s gaze hopped across the blanket.
“Eves,” Sunita pleaded. “I was just looking out f—”
“Don’t talk to me.” Evie wiped her nose.
Puggie nudged Sunita.
“Ask me later,” she muttered, then glugged her alcopop.
Stuart picked up a can of lager. “Evie, come walk?”
Swallowing her hurt, she nodded.
Leaving behind the bonfire’s crackle and the Flett twins’ torturous guitar playing, Evie ambled stiffly by Stuart’s side, her mind a firestorm of uncertainty about Nick and Sunita and how—no, IF she could forgive her best friend. Sunita drunkenly tearing into her and Nick was one thing, but it was quite another threatening to spill her most intimate secrets in front of half of Kirkwall Grammar. The only saving grace—Stuart missed most of it, although this being Orkney, he’d get caught up quickly.
