All We've Got Is Basketball (Blake Griffin FanFic)

Chapter 98

Maya, Candace and Skylar were out dancing with some guys while I was at the bar, sipping slowly on a Sex On The Beach. The single life seemed a lot better now then before. I sipped on the straw watching them grind on one another and dance like maniacs. Sure did look like fun. As if I could get caught doing anything bad. I noticed I was sipping on nothing but air, before a man sat down right next to me.

"You know there's nothing left in the cup, right?" I heard a familiar voice ask me, as I looked up to meet those piercing blue eyes again.

"Hey, Mark," I greeted him with a smile, as the bartender refilled my drink. He had a beer in hand, just like earlier. Some things never do change. "You know drinking beer all the time will make you fat, right?"

"And you know sitting here like a loner will make you look like a total buzzkill, right?" He shot back at me, as I rolled my eyes.

"Well, now I'm not sitting alone, are I?" I asked him, as I began drinking my fourth drink of the night, but yet had no effect on me.

"You're lucky you have me," he joked, and took another sip. I rolled my eyes again, as his eyes kept drawing me in. I completely forgot about how much I was a sucker for blue or green eyes. "So... Are you just gonna sit here and watch them?" He pointed to my friends, that had left me that one night I met Blake, doing the same thing now. Woah... I had seen this before. I was with the same friends, in a club, talking to a guy that had really caught my attention. This was weird. This reminded me of Blake. What was I doing? Why was I talking to this guy?

"Don't have anything else better to do," I commented, shrugging, taking another sip of my drink.

"Well..." He trailed off, a sparkle in his eye, "I can think of something better we can do." He looked between my eyes and my lips and leaned into me. His lips were only a couple inches from mine, when I put my hands on his buff chest and gave him a light push.

"I don't think so," I told him as he sat back in his seat with a look of defeat. "I have a boyfriend back home." He stared at me for a few good moments, before his eyes lighted up and he covered his mouth.

"Oh my god," he said, "you're Morgan Rowland! You're getting married to Blake Griffin! I knew I knew you from somewhere. I didn't mean to hit on you..."

"It's fine," I cut him off, nodding and taking a long sip of my drink and tearing my eye contact from his. He seemed to sense me sudden mood change and shook his head, speaking again.

"I'm sorry if I came off a bit forward, it's just I realized who you are... and... well, we never see famous people ever where I'm from," he said, smiling from ear to ear. "I'm sorry if I did something wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," I muttered, pushing my drink away, it suddenly being not that appetizing. "I guess I'm just starting to realize that I'm not a normal person no matter how much I want to be."

"Well, of course you're not," Mark said, shaking his head. "All famous people want to always say about how they wish they were normal. You guys aren't normal and never will be. But your life must be awesome. Wow..." He trailed off, and took a deep breath, taking a long sip of his beer. My face heated up and I grabbed my purse.

"I think I need to go," I shook my head and left the bar, moving towards the door before I heard Mark calling something to me.

"See you around?" He called.

I turned to face him. "Probably not." He narrowed his eyes to me before I turned and left, leaving the club. The warm night air felt good on my skin as I walked down the street, seeing a couple people pointing at me from across the street and waving. When had I become so oblivious to everything? I wasn't normal anymore. That sucked. This sucked. I powered on my phone, which I hadn't in hours. I started jogging and made it to the hotel, dodging into the stairway so nobody could see me. I ran up four flights of stairs, down the hall and jammed the key into the slot, running into the room. I dropped my purse onto the floor and moved out onto the balcony. I immediately returned one of Blake's one hundred four missed calls. It rang a few times and Blake wasn't picking up. Maybe he was asleep or at the gym, or with DJ or Chris or Matt, he picked up the phone.