the rookie | andrew benintendi

ix | injury

"I think you should take her home," Brock suggested, watching as a drunk Ari hid her face in Andrew's chest. "We wouldn't want her passing out or something."

"Yeah," Andrew agreed, wrapping an arm around her for stability. "I feel bad, though."

At the restaurant, Andrew had recommended a drink for Ari to try. What he didn't know, was the fact that she was a lightweight. So, a few drinks later, she was drunk.

"I'm sure she'll understand," Brock said. "You didn't know."

"I guess so," Andrew said, looking down at her. He smiled before looking back at Brock. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Luckily, Ari had parked close to the restaurant's doors. She walked on her own, but Andrew kept an arm around her, just in case she stumbled. He made sure she was in the passenger seat before getting in the driver's side. After turning the keys in the ignition, he looked over at her. She reached over, grabbing his hand.

"I need that to drive, Ari," he laughed.

"No, you don't," she argued with a loopy grin.

"Just for a few moments, alright?" he compromised.

She frowned, but let go of his hand. He pulled out of the parking lot before reaching over to where her hand was resting on the seat next to her. She flipped her hand over, allowing him to intertwine his fingers with hers. He smiled at her before looking back at the road. Though he would have preferred to be driving with two hands, especially in a car he wasn't used to, he couldn't complain about getting to hold Ari's hand.

When they arrived at Ari's apartment, Andrew brought her straight to bed. He felt like he was taking care of a child as he made sure she was comfortable. After he turned the light off and checked on her one last time before leaving, she grabbed his wrist.

"Stay," she whispered, "please."

Andrew's heart both sank and began to race. "Really?"

She nodded. Andrew didn't want to leave her alone when she wanted him to stay, but it didn't seem right. Sure, it wasn't that big of a deal normally, but his feelings were causing him to question it. He didn't want her to be mad at him for doing something stupid when she was drunk.

When she groaned, tapping the bed next to her, he gave in. He slipped his shoes off -- he hadn't had enough time to take them off -- before climbing into bed next to her. He turned away from her, trying to ignore her, but nothing could mask the smell of her that flooded his senses.

He wasn't sure he was going to be able to sleep. He stared up at the ceiling, not sure what to do. So many thoughts were racing through his head but he could only think about her. Her smile, her laugh, everything. He was so in love with her and she didn't have a clue.

He looked over at her. She was sleeping peacefully. He reached over to brush a piece of her soft, brown hair out of her face. "I love you," he whispered, "and I wish I could tell you that."

-

"Andrew!"

Ari's voice cracked as she whipped around to face the third base umpire, making a 'T' with her hands to signal a timeout. He called time quickly and Ari turned back around, dashing over to where Andrew was laying on the ground, obviously in pain. Upon trying to get back to second base on a ground ball to the shortstop, he had landed on his ankle awkwardly.

She crouched next to him, reaching out as he flipped himself over. She retracted her hand as he avoided her gaze, attempting to stand up. She rested a hand on his shoulder as he attempted to walk, but wasn't able to put pressure on his left leg. She blinked back tears as he leaned over, his hands on his knees.