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Kassidy stepped back, resting a shoulder against the building next to them. He looked over his shoulder at her. “Do you mind?” he asked quietly.
“Of course not,” she said, offering him a small smile.
She was pale and was pinching her lips together, though.
Shit. Was she gonna blow again?
“Okay, let’s do this,” he said to the photographers. “But make it quick, please. My friend isn’t doing too well this morning, and we need to get her home.”
A woman from the Atlanta Almanac smiled and lifted her camera. “Too much partying last night?”
“Bad sushi,” he said. He posed, lifting his smoothie and smiling. After they all got their shot, he nodded. “All right. One question each.”
“Where’d you eat last night?” the woman shot out immediately.
“Diro’s.”
A reporter from The Sun called out, “What’s your friend’s name?”
“Not answering that one, but nice try.”
The guy laughed. “Fine. Are you ready for Sunday’s game?”
“I was born ready,” he said, winking.
Another woman stepped forward. He wasn’t sure what newspaper or channel she was from. “I read that you went to visit a sick child in the hospital last week. Is that true?”
“Yes. Daniel. He’s a huge fan, and he’s fighting cancer. I’m going back again next week to watch a game with him. I have every faith he’ll pull through this.” His heart ached for the ten-year-old. The kid was adorable, and a fighter. “I have every intention of visiting him as much as possible, during and after his treatment. If that’s all—?”
“One more, please,” that same reporter said, glancing at Kassidy and smiling before turning back to Wyatt. “You seem to like this child. Have you ever considered bringing another little Wyatt Hamilton into the world to grace the football field for generations to come?”
He laughed. “No. I’m sorry to say that there will be no little Wyatts running around. I’ve never wanted children, and I don’t expect that will change anytime soon.”
After a few more quick questions, he stepped back, checking on Kassidy again. She was even paler than before. “Are you okay?” he asked her, his voice low.
She nodded, not speaking and not meeting his eyes.
Turning back to the crowd, he pasted a smile on again. “Okay. We have to go now,” he said, resting a hand on her lower back. “Thanks, everyone. See you after the game.”
He led her away from the paparazzi. As soon as they rounded the corner, he said, “I’m sorry. I tried to make it fast, but—”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” she said, her voice strangled.
Even though she said she was fine and didn’t mind, he couldn’t help but think something was off. He replayed everything that had happened, trying to think of what could have upset her. All he’d said was that—oh shit. “I didn’t mean it when I said you were just a friend. I figured you didn’t feel well and weren’t in the mood to—”
“Wyatt.” She let go of his hand and unlocked her door. After opening it, she faced him again. “I’m not upset about that, okay?”
“But you’re upset about something,” he said, walking past her and into the house. Once she was inside, he shut and locked the door. “I have a sister. I can tell when a woman is upset with me, and I know better than to ignore it when she is. If it’s not that, then what is it? What did I do?”
“It’s just…” She pressed her lips together. “It’s nothing.”
“Kass.” He closed the distance between them and caught her hands, lifting them to his mouth. He kissed each one, locking eyes with her. Her green-flecked blue eyes were dimmer than they were last night, and she had bags under her eyes from missing sleep, but she was still the prettiest woman that he’d ever seen, inside and out, sick or not. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s up. You can tell me anything, and I’ll be right here, helping you figure out why you’re upset and how to fix it.”
“I know.” She grabbed his wrists, biting down on her lip. “I…we need to…” Before she could get another word out, she clasped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide, and ran off to the bathroom. She was nothing more than a blur of blond hair and blue sundress.
He started to follow her, but she shut and locked the door before he could join her. He stood there for a second, hovering outside helplessly. He could hear her through the door, and it hurt his heart that she was suffering like this. He had half a mind to call the restaurant and rip them a new one for making his girl sick.
Swallowing hard, he pushed off the wall and went into the kitchen, grabbing her empty smoothie cup as he went. If history repeated itself, she’d want a glass of water after she was finished, and then maybe a cracker or two. He had no clue what the hell had been in that sushi last night, but it was pretty toxic.
