Freaking out.
No, that was just Kennedy. The rest seemed appropriately concerned but not out of their minds.
“Are you all right? What happened?” One of the paramedics asked, squatting down to take my pulse.
Oh, God. I was so embarrassed. I smacked Kennedy’s arms off me, so I could sit up. “I don’t know. I guess I…overheated? Dehydrated maybe.”
It seemed bizarre. I’d been in the Navy for years in all kinds of conditions–hot and cold. I’d never passed out from the heat before. Maybe it was a combination of the high altitude in Montana plus the heat? Although it had been higher in Mexico and much hotter. Humid as hell, too.
Someone uncapped a bottle of water and thrust it in my face. Kennedy snatched it up before I could and held it to my lips.
I drank a little, but with my stomach revolting, I was cautious.
When I pulled my face back to refuse, Kennedy tipped the bottle and dribbled water down the front of my shirt.
I smacked him weakly with the back of my hand. “What the fuck, Kennedy?”
“If you’re overheated, the water will help cool you down.”
“You just want to see me in a wet shirt,” I mumbled and someone–I thought it was Hayes–laughed.
Because this was literally the most humiliating experience in the recent years of my life, I made a show of rallying. “I’m fine, everyone. Just need to drink a little water.” I took the bottle from Kennedy and drank some more. To him, I growled, “Help me up, sailor.”
“Are you sure? We don’t even know what hap–”
“Now,” I growled.
“I gotcha.” In a flash, I was hauled to my feet by a pair of strong hands beneath my armpits. Kennedy kept me close to his side, though, like he was afraid I’d teeter over and fall again.
Had I fallen? Passed out? It was so weird. I rubbed the throbbing egg on my head.
“Get her some ice!” Kennedy shouted.
“Again, with the yelling in my ear. Not cool.”
His voice instantly softened, and his fingertips sought the egg on my head with light exploration. “I’m sorry, sweets.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Here’s an icepack. Why don’t you come and have a seat over here by the ambulance, and we’ll take your vitals?” the paramedic offered.
I had to move fast to accept the ice pack before Kennedy took it. I held it to my head. “I’m totally fine. Really. Just a bruised ego at this point. Please carry on. I am begging you.”
“Maybe a snack would help. Could be low blood sugar if you didn’t have breakfast,” Megan said. “I’ll go and get you something.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted, although a snack was starting to sound good, despite the queasiness in my belly.
“Hey,” Kennedy said softly. He still hadn’t left his position as my boulder to lean against in case I got dizzy again. “You have nothing to prove here. Why not just give yourself a break and sit down?”
Nothing to prove.If only that were true. I’d spent my entire life proving I was tough enough to fit in with the boys. I sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin my rep now fainting from sunstroke. It was…absurd.
“Really, Quince. You don’t have to be a badass every minute of every day.”
I turned around, ready to bare my teeth at him, but the depth of concern and caring in his expression stopped me. Once again, Kennedy was getting real with me, and it was always my kryptonite. No wonder he was so good with the ladies.
He put his hand on the side of my shoulder and slowly stroked it down my arm. “I’m good,” I muttered, but the humiliation slipped away. The sensation that I’d screwed up and shown my weakness–acted toofeminine–slackened.
Maybe Kennedy was right. Maybe I didn’t have anything to prove. Not with my teammates. My friends. Nor the fire and rescue group who were all here practicing to ensure they were prepared to help people.