Page 106 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“Impatient ass.”

I reached for one of the bags I had purposely kept separate from the others and sat down beside him.

“This one actually ain’t mine.”

His brows lifted. “Whose is it?”

“My other husband’s.”

Kyrie’s smile disappeared so damn fast I almost choked trying to hold in my laugh.

“Your fucking who?”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, my God, Kyrie!”

“Nawl, fuck that.” He sat forward. “Who the fuck is your other husband?”

“Nobody! Damn, I was playing.”

“Aight.” His eyes narrowed. “Keep playing with me if you want to.”

The seriousness on his face only made me laugh harder.

“You are so damn easy.”

“I ain’t easy. I just don’t play about what’s mine.”

“Whatever, Big Daddy.”

I reached inside the bag before his crazy ass could turn my little joke into a whole interrogation and pulled out the outfit I had picked up for him.

“It’s yours, fool.”

His attention immediately dropped to what I was holding.

“For me?”

“Yeah.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. I handed everything over, watching as he looked through it.

“I saw it while we were shopping and thought it would look good on you.”

Kyrie held the shirt up against himself before looking down at the rest of the outfit.

“This shit clean.”

“I know. That’s why I bought it.”

“You got good taste.”

“Obviously. I married you, didn’t I?”

A slow grin spread across his face.

“See? Now you talking.”

I rolled my eyes.