my lady | deandre jordan

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my lady

dedicated to: catfigas
non-explicit

"Catherine, you need to meet new people," Catherine's big brother, Blake Griffin, scolded. Catherine had officially moved to Los Angeles from San Diego to be closer to him, and he was already making her regret her decision. Since it was her first official day out here, Blake suggested that Catherine accompany him to the Staples center to watch him practice along with meeting his teammates for the first time. "I'll meet people when I feel like meeting people," Catherine shrugged, not really taking anything he was saying to mind.

"How about a boyfriend? You need one of those too." Rolling her eyes, Catherine side-eyed him as she mumbled, "I don't need anything or anybody." "Well, as your oldest sibling, I instruct you to find one. Actually, I'm gonna help," he smiled as he pulled into the back way of the arena, parking his car in a designated parking space. Taking off her seatbelt and getting out, Catherine grabbed her Coach bag and closed to the car door behind her, watching Blake come to her side of the car.

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

*

It had been approximately five hours, and Catherine was still watching Blake practice. Actual practice had ended two hours ago, but Blake just couldn't turn down a one on one with one of his best friends, Chris Paul. As Chris shot another three pointer, he smirked at Blake as Blake smacked his lips, "Lucky shot."

"That wasn't luck, big bro, he's been splashin' those threes in your face for the past two hours," Catherine yelled, rolling my eyes slightly at how long she had been sitting. "You hush up!" Blake stated, pointing to his sister, "At least I can shoot a basketball. All you do is air ball and get the ball taken from you."

"Well maybe if you actually taught me how to play, I wouldn't have that problem," Catherine sassed. "Maybe I can help you with your little 'problem'," a tall, dark skinned man said with a deep voice as he approached me. Catherine looked up to see no other than DeAndre Jordan, and my God, did he look sexier in person.

"U-uh," she stuttered, staring up at the 6'11 center as he chuckled at her nervousness. "You must be Catherine, Blake's sister," he smiled, holding his hand out, "I'm DeAndre, nice to meet you."

"I know who you are," Catherine finally breathed out, slowly taking ahold of his hand, shaking it softly, "Who wouldn't?"

DeAndre let out another chuckle, letting my hand go as he licked his lips, "Blake left out a lot of adjectives while describing you to the team."

"Oh really? What adjectives were used?" Catherine asked as she looked at Blake from my peripheral vision, only to see him signaling for DeAndre not to say a thing. As DeAndre looked back at Blake, he smiled goofily and turned back to me, "Let's see— annoying, sassy, short, dorky, and did I mention annoying?"

Taking a ball that sat beside me, Catherine picked it up and chucked it at Blake, watching as the basketball hit him in the chest. Blake winced and rubbed his chest, hissing slightly, "Damn, Cat, that hurt!"

"He forgot to mention that I have impeccable aim, and that I'll ruin his 'pretty little face'," Catherine fake smiled using air quotes around 'pretty little face', referring to the description girls used when it came to his looks. DeAndre and Chris laughed at her comment, causing her to let a real smile form upon her face.

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