Blake Griffin Imagines

Healing Takes Time

Healing takes time...but true love lasts a lifetime.

The sun was past the noon sky at the beginning of Blake's third year in the league. The bright yellow, orange, and pink light filtered through the back glass of his new home—all whites and tans and hardwood floors, a staunch difference to the one he'd initially bought six months ago for her. But he hadn't been able to stay in that house once she'd ended it. Once he'd found the proof of what she'd done to him. Everything had been boxed up and stored away, and he had attempted to start completely new.

But he was alone for the first time since he was in high school. He didn't even remember what it was like to be single, because he'd never really been single. He'd always had her. She'd always been there, and now she wasn't and it was his fault.

Chaney, a little Rhodesian Ridgeback he bought for company, gave a little bark. Upon glancing at the time, he saw that it was time for his dinner. The poor pup was probably starving. Chaney was good for him—he filled that void that was left and gave Blake something to come home to and something to care for. But it just wasn't the same.

After pouring some puppy chow into Chaney's bowl, Blake paced around his kitchen. There were some beers in his fridge and a small selection of liquor in one of his cabinets. He felt an urge to take a drink, because if he had some alcohol in his system he could forget what he'd done to her and what she'd done to him in return. But he'd done that too many times, and it had been a mistake. Alcohol wasn't the answer for him. He was a professional athlete and he had to treat his body with respect if he wanted to get the most that he could after it.

Blake glanced at his phone.

The blonde. She had been pretty. He had her number in his phone. Oh, what was her name? Cameron. No, Brynn. Brynn Cameron. Tall, nice body, and pretty eyes. Maybe she would be open to meeting up with him again.

Just a little intimacy—he wasn't even talking about sex here—might ease the pains he felt each night he went to bed with no one beside him.

She probably wouldn't even want to talk to him, though. It's been four months since that night. He hadn't made one attempt to contact her. Hell, how did he even know she was from Los Angeles? She could've been in town visiting a friend and happened to be at the party. But she had to have known who he was, or maybe she didn't. He had some foggy memories from their time together. Had she known who he was, or had he just been a name?

He typed in the code to open his phone and pulled up his contacts. He scrolled down a bit then clicked her name when it rolled into view.

Blake tapped her number before he allowed himself to think. What did it matter to anyone if he called her? It's not as if anyone gave him the time of day anymore. Everyone was pretty much pissed at him beyond belief. Nobody gave a damn the pain he'd gone through. They all gave zero fucks about him, and he was beginning to give none for them back.

Losing her had isolated him in ways he could have never imagined.

"Hello?"

Her voice wasn't very...girly. It had a rough edge to it, which Blake found slightly comforting. "Hey, um, Brynn? This is Blake Griffin."

"Blake?" He could hear the shock in her voice. He couldn't tell if it was from him being who he was or from him contacting her after so long. Either way, he bit his lip lightly before continuing.

"Yeah, we met at that birthday party back in February." He didn't mention that they'd slept together, because he felt like that wasn't something you brought up in casual conversation. "Anyways, I know it's been a while, but if you could I was wondering if you'd like to meet up some time? Maybe go to dinner or something."