Blake Griffin Imagines

Broken Hearts

The three times Blake Griffin broke her heart…And the one time Liyah broke his.

One

The first time he’d done it, he hadn’t meant to. He’d been on the road his sophomore year of college. It was against the Oklahoma Sooners rivals the Texas Longhorns. There’d been some Oklahoma fans at the game. One particularly alluring Latina girl with sultry brown eyes. She’d caught him after his second drink at the party.

The kiss hadn’t been as pleasing. At least not as pleasing as his girl’s back home. She’d tasted like stale vodka and coconut. His girl always tasted sweet and spicy, like a walking contradiction. A cute exterior and a fiery spark underneath.

He’d pulled back after two movements of his lips on the girl’s, because it was just too weird. But it was just long enough for one of her friends to snap the picture.

“How the hell could you do this to me, Blake?” she’d asked him. She hadn’t even been mad. Just hurt.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he told her. She was sitting on his bed at the apartment he shared with brother and a couple of teammates. “I’d just had a couple of beers and she was saying all this crap. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” she mumbled. Her chocolate brown eyes bore into his. “I won’t let you off next time.”

“I know, Liyah,” Blake told her. His long arms pulled her over against his chest. “I know.”

 

Two

He hadn’t meant for it to happen. It had been his rookie year—that he’d actually gotten to play on the court—and they’d fought. Bad. When Blake had been drafted by the Los Angeles Clippers, Liyah had transferred from the University of Oklahoma to UCLA so that she could stay close to him and the two of them could be together. It was difficult for a relationship since their sophomore year of high school to be left to long distance when they’d spent the last six years of their lives together.

But Liyah had been pissed. It’d been months since they’d gone on a date. You know, the traditional kind where the boy took the girl out to a restaurant. When he’d open every door and pull out her chair. When he’d hold her hand to keep her close, and pick up the check due to ‘southern hospitality’ and being raised a gentleman. Blake had just been so busy with practice, with playing, with adjusting to his new found fame in such a bright city with so many cameras, and learning to fend for his own without his mom and dad nor his brother there to watch out for him.

On more than one occasion he got overwhelmed, and he sort of shut down. They were sharing a decent sized condo on the beach. Liyah was a full time student, working her ass off towards a psychology degree. Sometimes, she got overwhelmed too. But where Blake needed to shut down, Liyah needed a release.

“Blake, baby, let’s go out,” Liyah breathed one morning. She’d woken him up with sex—they hadn’t done anything in so long, it was almost like they forgot what the other felt like. “Let’s go to a club or something, dance.”

“I have a meeting this afternoon,” Blake mumbled against her hair. He hadn’t let her be on top while they made love, but she was resting on his long form now. She smelt like him; a scent that was like a drug to her senses.

“I’m talking about tonight,” Liyah told him.

Blake looked down at her. Into the large brown eyes where he found his refuge. The ones he could call home and the ones he could read like a damn book. He could see how much she wanted to do something—go out clubbing, go to a movie, just…something—but he was about to leave on a two week road trip and Wilson wasn’t doing very well. He just didn’t want to go out.