Page 115 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

She didn’t say nothing. I heard her footsteps heading downstairs and laughed to myself as I reached for my outfit she had brought me for the shoot.

She’d be aight. And if not, I knew exactly how to get back on her good side. I finished getting dressed, grabbed my phone and everything else I needed, then headed downstairs.

Sianni was already waiting by the door, still acting like she ain’t want shit to do with me.

I walked over and stepped beside her. “You ready, mean ass?”

She cut her eyes at me. “Been ready.”

I bit back a laugh.

“Aight then. Let’s go.”

She grabbed her things, and we headed out the door together.

By the time we made it to the studio, Sianni had finally stopped giving me the silent treatment over that damn dress.

For the most part, her ass was throwing little slick comments my way every chance she got, but I let her have it. She looked good as fuck in what she had on now, too, so as far as I was concerned, I won.

Once we got inside, somebody from the staff greeted us and led us toward the back. The place was bigger than I expected, with lights and cameras set up everywhere and a whole separate area where we were supposed to sit down for the interview afterward.

“Mr. and Mrs. Maddox, good to finally meet you,” the photographer greeted, reaching out to shake my hand before doing the same with Sianni. “You guys ready?”

“I am,” Sianni answered.

I looked down at her. “You sure? You were mad as hell.”

She snapped toward me.

“Kyrie.”

I laughed. “See?”

“Can we please act normal?”

“That’s the problem.”

The photographer laughed as Sianni shook her head and walked toward the set. I followed her, my eyes dropping to her ass for half a second.

Shit. Maybe I should’ve made her put on something else. ’Cause her ass was even looking good in this dress.

“Alright,” the photographer said once we were in position. “Kyrie, I’m going to have you stand before Sianni. Bring her in close, hand around her waist.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me twice.”

Sianni looked back at me. “Behave.”

I slid my hand around her waist and pulled her against me.

“I am.”

“You never behave.”

“Yet, you married me.”

Her lips twitched, then the camera started clicking.

“That right there,” the photographer said. “Keep talking to each other. Don’t worry about me.”