More of the same noise is all I hear.
“Sienna. Sienna. Sunshine,” I say, a little louder this time.
Finally, her voice gets a little clearer. “Shit.” Her voice sounds gravelly and pained. “Tucker?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?”
“I didn’t mean to call you,” she says, barely above a whisper.
“It’s fine. I’m glad you did. Are you sick or hurt?” I ask. Warren looks like he’s going to burst out of his skin, not knowing what’s going on.
There is a long pause before she says, “I don’t feel very good.”
“I’m going to come check on you.”
“No, don’t. I’m fine… really,” she says weakly.
I’m already standing up. “Don’t argue with me on this. I’m coming.”
She grunts in understanding before we both hang up.
As soon as I pull the phone from my ear, Warren’s on me. “What’s going on?”
He grabs Jackson’s hand as we start to walk toward the dugout. “I don’t know, but she doesn’t sound good. I think she’s sick.”
“I’m coming with you,” he says as we both quickly gather up all our things.
“Is Sienna sick?” Jackson asks his dad.
“Yeah, bud, I think she is,” Warren says, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Grayson steps in beside me. “Sienna’s sick?” he asks. His eyes widen with concern.
“She just accidentally called me, and she sounded like crap.”
“Shit,” Grayson says running his hands through his hair. “Let’s go check on her.” He’s already throwing everything into his bag and zipping it up.
“On it.”
We practically jog to our vehicles, parked in the dirt lot beside the field, and they follow me all the way to her apartment. I’m taking the steps two at a time to reach her apartment before I even realize what I’m doing.
I take one deep breath before gently knocking on her door. I don’t want to startle her. “It’s me, Sunshine.”
Grayson steps in behind me, followed by Warren with Jackson in his arms.
The door opens, and my heart drops. Her hair is a wild mess piled on top of her head, and her eyes are bloodshot like she’s been crying. She has a blanket draped over her shoulders.
I don’t even think about it. I just step forward, cradling her face in my palms. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“My throat hurts. I can barely move my neck. I’m so hot, but I’m freezing,” she whimpers, leaning into one of my hands.
I guide her back, so she can sit down on the couch. She doesn’t look like she’s going to be able to stay on her feet for very much longer. I can feel the others filing into the small apartment.
Grayson steps up beside me. He leans over, pressing a kiss to her clammy forehead. “Have you checked your temperature?”
She nods. “One hundred and three.”
“Have you taken any meds?”
