September 9th, 2019, 8: 00 AM EST

Dressed in a casual grey t-shirt tucked in regular fit jeans in wash blue completed with a pair of white converses, Roosevelt made her way out of the Miami International Airport. 

She hadn't told Christian that she was arriving today; she had tried to be as vague as possible about her plans. Smartly, she had Chapman help her find out which hotel the Brewers were staying at, and she had booked herself a room at the same place but had stressed that she needed to be on a very different floor. 

As she waited for her ordered Uber, she took a moment to message the Matts that she was safe at the airport. 

Royal Trio Group Chat: 

Rosie: I'm safe in Miami; the hotel awaits!

Ollie: You better be safe....at ALL times

Chappy: Eww, gross. Just enjoy your time off

Rosie: Bless; kick the Asstros asses!

Soon, her ride arrived, and she was checking in within 30 minutes. Grinning to herself, she went to her room and changed into one of her bikinis. She was supposed to message Lorenzo when she was ready pool side. Looking at herself in the mirror, she could help notice how good the navy blue sleek knit triangle bikini and matching cheeky bottoms looked on her. 

She finished the look with white flip flops and white open front swim cover. Her trademark Ray Bans dawned her face. Briefly checking her Apple Watch: 9:50am. Perfect time for baseball players to swim before a game. 

Finding the pool to be quiet at this time, she parked herself on one of the lounges and texted Cain.

Roosevelt: I'm pool side. 

Cain: This is going to be good. He's in a sour mood. 

Roosevelt: I'll fix it.

Sometime later, she noticed a group of mostly muscled guys heading into the pool area. She could hear Cain shouting, "Just get in the damn pool and relax." 

Getting up, she put her back to them, pretending to rummage through her bag, and that's when she heard them. Cat calls and whistles. If Christian knew it was her, he'd be furious with them.
Biting her lip at what to do, she decided to be a Queen and claim her King. She glanced over her shoulder, Christian was completely uninterested in her and was talking with Cain. She was impressed at his commitment. 

Turning, the other players immediately recognized her, gave looks of apology, and continued to act as if nothing was new. Taking the long route around the pool, Roosevelt had the upper hand. Cain was doing an excellent job of distracting him. 

"Excuse me, are you Christian Yelich?" She asked in her best valley girl impression. Why did she enjoy messing with him?

His back stiffened and without looking her in the face, "Look, I'm sure you have a great personality, but I'm taken." 

'Wow.' She mouthed to Cain who responded with a small nod. Her hands gently traced his back causing him to jump up and spin to face her, "Where do you think you get---" He snapped but then shut his mouth. A giant smile replaced the angry expression. 

"Hey." Roosevelt greeted with a small wave. Christian drank her in. Her body continued to leave him speechless, and the dark navy blue had been a nice touch. 

"You're here." He stupidly stated causing his teammates to snicker. Rarely was the slugger at a loss of words. 

"I told you I was coming to the Marlins Series--" Before she could finish, she was pulled into a warm hug. Feeling him press his lips on the top of her head, she moved to look him in the eye, and his hands moved to possessively hold her hips. 

"I missed you." He whispered with mirth in his brown eyes, and she returned a similar look with her caramels, "Me too." 

"Get a room already!" Cain teased from the side. Christian smirked at her, "You're in Miami, what do you want to do? Swim? Eat? Fuck?" 

"Potty mouth!" She teased as she removed her cover, tossed it aside, and made a running head first dive. Christian took off right behind her. Shouts of encouragement could be heard from his teammates.
When he finally caught up to her, it was as if she'd been waiting. Her long legs wrapped themselves around his waist causing him to groan and roughly whisper, "Why the hell did you get us in the pool if you weren't going to swim?"

"It's called foreplay honey. C'mon, I can tell I'm playing with fire." The two exited the pool and gathered their things. 

"I'll be back later fellas." Christian threw over his shoulder.

"Don't wear yourself out too much before the game!" Braun shouted from behind them. Once the duo was in the elevator, Christian gave her a small, but possessive kiss. Giving him a hungry look, she let her hand run through his hair; his eyes shuttered at the contact. The elevator dinged, and the two quickly exited and entered her room. Putting a "Do Not Disturb" Placard on the door, Christian turned to see Roosevelt waiting for him. 

"You have no idea." He growled at her as his hands grabbed her defined hips. He was trying to decide how he wanted to begin this. The amount of tension he possessed was astounding. 

"I don't?" She quipped as her hands sensually pulled off his wet trunks, dropped to her knees, looked up at him, and licked her lips. Shaking his head, he lifted her up, quickly removed her suit, and slammed her against the wall. He didn't wait for permission or for her to get acclimated; he wanted her. Catching up with his intentions, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his strong neck. His lips kissed her neck, occasionally nipping when he hit a certain part of her.

"Christian..."

"Oh, I know." He confirmed as felt her lose it on him, but he didn't stop. Instead, he easily carried her to the bed and continued going until he came. This time he didn't leave her. He rolled them, so she was on top. 

"Shit, Christian. No breaks?" She rasped as her hips rocked against his. 

"Nope. We're making up for lost time." 

The duo didn't stop until it was time for him to leave for practice. Pulling her possessively to him, he mumbled against her lips, "I'll see you at the game?"

"Of course. Cain got me tickets." 

"Good." He kissed her once more before he took his leave. Roosevelt let out a shaky breath. She couldn't recall a past relationship where they had sex that much in one day. Feeling completely relaxed, she decided to prepare for the game. She was determined to look as good as she felt. 

After taking a shower, she dried her hair into straight with slight waves. She put on light make-up that still managed to make her eyes pop. Luckily, Christian already had her glowing, so bronzer was unnecessary. Digging through her luggage, she dressed in tight skinny jeans, a white v neck kami that revealed her toned abdomen, and her custom A's jersey. Her feet were covered in matching green and white converse. Grabbing her clutch, phone, and sunglasses, Roosevelt checked the time. She had awhile before the game, but she'd never been to Marlins Park and decided to explore. As she walked to the hotel lobby, she couldn't help feel like she was slightly off balance. 'Seriously? He did me that good?' She asked herself with a large smile.  Quickly, she gave herself an adjustment that temporarily fixed the issue. 

Taking another ride service to the park was easy, she checked in at Will-Call and was handed her ticket to sit left side, so Christian could see her while batting. As she walked around, more people started to realize who she was. Some teenagers, both girls and boys, asked for pictures and autographs, which she generously gave. 

One boy commented, "What's he like?"

"Christian?" She questioned back as she signed a baseball, which she found to be ironic. 

"Yeah, he's one of my heroes. I wanna know if I chose right." Roosevelt knew she was now on people's Snap Chats and Instagram Lives, so she chose her words carefully, "I don't think you could have chosen a better player to look up to. He's kind, sweet, funny, hardworking; he also does an impeccable Mr Krabs impression. Keep after your dream, okay?" She patted the teen's arm. Snagging a beer and a bag of sunflower seeds, Roosevelt made her way to her seat. Setting her things down, she quickly spun around and took it all in. Cain had gotten her a great seat. Smiling at nothing in particular, she grabbed her phone and checked her messages. No new messages, but plenty of notifications from Twitter and Instagram. Deciding to thoroughly enjoy her night, she avoided social media, took her seat, and enjoyed the pre-game hype session. 

In the clubhouse:

As he finished getting ready, he spotted the Marlins in house hype team showing a video of Roosevelt dealing with both Marlins and Brewers fans. Christian took in her appearance—she was glowing and looked the most relaxed he'd ever seen her. Grinning to himself, he headed out to the grass to get ready for the game. Looking first along the Brewers dugout seats and failing to spot her, he turned to look over behind the Marlins dugout, and his eyes easily found her. 

"Why is she sitting over there?" Yelich asked out loud.

"So, you can see her when you're batting." Cain sassed as he passed by. 

"Shit, my bad." Christian returned with arms raised in submission. 

As they stretched and did their drills, the Brewers couldn't help notice how relaxed their all-star appeared. He didn't once look over to see if she was there, because he knew she was. There wasn't any guessing games or doubt. Some of the players wondered if she could just travel with the team as their trainer. Could Oakland trade one of its trainers? 

The game went exceedingly well, to the point where they benched Christian and had others hit for him. The Brewers won 8-3.  Roosevelt checked on her boys in green—they'd been gutted 0-15. She felt bad, but she was allowed a break. What would happen when she left? The green and gold would have to pull themselves together. Swiftly exiting the stadium and grabbing an Uber, Roosevelt hastily texted: 

Roosevelt: I'll meet you in my room.

Christian♥️: You got it. 

The car ride was short as was the trip up to her room. Stripping off the baseball game attire, she switched to her most recent purchases: a black bondage teddy from Victoria Secrets. She also brought a pair of strappy black high heels. 

 Looking herself over, she could help but notice her tan lines, but had to shrug them off, as there was nothing she could do about it. 

Not too long after she had finished preparing for him, a pleasant knock sounded at her door. Looking through the peephole, she spied Christian dressed in his trademark t-shirt, shorts, and converse. Turning off all the lights, she stood behind the door and slowly opened it. 

"Babe?" He asked in a concerned voice, his head going from left to right. Closing the door behind him, she gave him a moment for his eyes to adjust. "Babe--" He murmured as he looked for her. Roughly, she guided him to the couch off to the right. Standing before him with her hands on her hips, she let him appraise her. 

"Holy shit." 

Dropping to her knees yet again and maintaining eye contact, she silently took off his shoes and socks. With surprising aggression, she straddled him and pulled his shirt off. This time it was her turn to be hungry. Rolling her hips against his, he let out a grunt. Her lips went to his neck, and sensually made their way down his chest, abdomen, and v.
Looking up at him with hooded eyes, her hands made quick work of his shorts. Before he could do anything, she took him in her mouth. His entire body shuddered in response. Going deep, her caramel eyes connected with his and he didn't recognize her. Most of the time, she simply flirted and gave kisses. A sweet, small town girl. Yet, here, in Miami, she had transformed into a sex goddess. Just as he was about to cum, she pulled back from him and whispered, "Not uh." 

Growling at her, he moved to stand, but she was strong too, and she pushed him back onto the couch. Mounting him, she kissed the sensitive part of his throat. His hands squeezed her bare ass in reply. Soon, he came and her right after him. 

As she slowly stood up, he eagerly swooped her up in his arms and carried her toward the bed. 

"My turn." He ground out. 

The next day, Roosevelt and Christian enjoyed the same schedule of activities. Honestly, what else did she expect? They wouldn't be together again until the end of the post season.
As he left for the ballpark again, she dressed in similar clothes again, this time black leggings lined with dark blue lining and her "borrowed" Yelich shirt. She pulled her hair up into a high bun. 

Her trek had been the same, but she was able to avoid the fans. This time she was sitting on the Brewers side, and she was a close to the field as she could get. She wondered about the end of the game: if she just could hop over the little railing and go on the field. Roosevelt would certainly try. Christian easily found her and gave her a brief kiss before heading out to line up for the National Anthem. 

The night felt wrong. She couldn't place it. Was it because she couldn't see his handsome face? She wasn't superstitious, but there was something to be said about her gut feelings. 

Roosevelt had her eyes trained on Christian as he walked up to bat. He was batting third. Two outs. He and the pitcher exchanged a few pitches. It was 1-1. Then Hernandez threw a pitch, and Christian swung. The sound that came next was like a gut punch. Ball on bone. Spotting him tense up, drop to one knee, and then sit all the while cursing sent her into a frenzy. Jumping over the railing and ignoring any of the calls by security or the bullpen, she made it to him before the Brewer's trainers did. 

"Baby." She murmured as she began to inspect his knee. She pushed back on his foot, and he readily hissed at her in reply. One of the male trainers shoved her aside and murmured to Christian, "Try to stand, buddy." His manager, who had appeared, agreed with him. 

"No!" She snapped in a whisper, "I'm pretty sure he fractured his knee cap." Christian gave her an indiscernible look, shook his head at her, and rose to his feet. Shaking off any annoyance, she was immediately by his side, one of his arms wrapped around her neck and shoulders. He took a step and stopped. "Fuck." He groaned. He keeled over from the pain. Roosevelt was surprised that he hadn't puked. 

"C'mon Yeli. Let's get you to CT." The male trainer stated while staring her down with a look of concern. She had been right. Returning to his previous stance, he sucked in a breath and headed with her and the other trainer into the clubhouse. 

Christian sat, waiting for instructions. His eyes shifted to his girlfriend who was currently arguing with one of the trainers. 

"He shouldn't be moving it til we know if he needs surgery." She challenged with a glare. 

"He needs to get changed. This is my job."

"It's mine too, dumbass. I'll get him changed, and you get the ambulance ready." She hissed back as moved back to help Christian. 

"Dumbass wants you to change before heading to the hospital for the CT. I'm going to help you okay? We're gonna try to not put anymore pressure on that knee til we know."

He simply nodded at her. While he was in pain, he was mentally numb. There went the 2019 MVP, his hitting pace...he possibly screwed his team out of the playoffs. He silently watched her nimble hands skillfully remove his cleats and socks. Rocking him to one side, she removed his pants, strap, etc and switched him into a pair of his shorts. Taking his jersey and compression shirt off, she looked at his face to see how he was doing. Her eyes watered: he'd checked out. His season was done, and it was hitting him hard. Roosevelt couldn't blame him; she'd react the same way. Stripping off her shirt, she gave it to him to put on and she put on his jersey. 

"Good enough?" she snapped at the trainer. 

"Uh, yeah." The trainer murmured as he brought a wheelchair forward. Christian, with their help, lowered himself into the chair. Soon, he found himself sitting in a hospital room staring down his swollen and bruised knee. 

The doctor walked in, and Roosevelt stood to her feet. Sighing, he announced, "We can't tell. The inflammation is too great. I recommend heading back to Milwaukee for further testing...until then ice it and keep it elevated."

Roosevelt was angry. Why did everyone treat this so run of the mill? 

Christian nodded and muttered to Roosevelt, "Can you help me with that? Packing, flying, new hospital visits."

Grabbing his hand and squeezing, "Absolutely. I'm with you all the way." 

A few hours later, the couple found themselves on a plane, heading for Milwaukee. The call to the Athletics organization had been unpleasant, but they granted her further leave. 

Christian sat slumped, his head resting on her shoulder. Her eyes never left his form. His hand held hers and occasionally they'd exchange squeezes. What could she say about any of this? What words would make this better? 

"I wouldn't blame you if you left." His sad voice floated. Anger flooded her body, but she knew this wasn't about her. 

"Why the hell would I leave?" She asked as she moved to face him. Shifting, he pursed his lips, "If you're right, I'm out at least six to eight weeks. I don't expect you to take care of me."

"But I will." She returned resolutely.

"But the Athletics—"

"Will go on without me." She confirmed. 

"And the Olympics—" 

"Are far enough out that I won't miss them. When you have your naps, I'll work out. I'm not leaving." 

Her lips met his. It was a small, sweet kiss. To let him know that she was there. Giving him a small smile, "I guess I'm doing all the work from here on out."

He let out a genuine laugh, "We're flying back to see if I need surgery, and you're talking sex. You're incredible."

"It's called a distraction. Also, I've never been to Milwaukee." 

"It shouldn't be too hot or cold." He glanced at her outfit: they'd literally switched, and he hadn't noticed til now. 

"When did we switch shirts?"

"Back in the clubhouse."

"I was really out of it, huh?"

"Yeah, you were in shock. I pretty much changed you out of your uniform. I'm gonna be honest, I kept the jersey for myself."

"Wait til you see my closet." He joked with a small laugh. 

"Yeah, about that. I'm going to have Mattie ship me my clothes and stuff."

Nodding, he smirked, "Moving in, huh?"

"Yeah, you're stuck with me."