Page 184 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“Nawl, I don’t.” His arm tightened slightly around me. “But worrying yourself sick ain’t gon’ change nothing either.”

A few minutes later, they called my name. I started to get up, but Kyrie held onto me for another second before finally letting me go.

“Come on, Big Daddy.”

“I’m coming.”

The second we got inside the exam room, all that calm shit Kyrie had just been preaching went straight out the window.

He had questions. A lot of them.

By the time I was lying back, and the doctor started the ultrasound, I was already tired of hearing his voice.

Then, the image appeared on the screen, and everything else disappeared. My eyes locked onto it, and I saw my baby. Not just the tiny image I’d seen before. Something there now looked more and more like a little person.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered.

Kyrie’s hand tightened around mine.

“That’s the baby?”

The doctor smiled. “That’s your baby.”

I felt Kyrie lean closer to the screen.

“Damn.”

I looked at him and almost laughed at the expression on his face. This big-ass man looked completely amazed. The doctor moved the wand slightly, then pointed it toward the monitor.

“Baby is measuring right around twelve weeks, which is exactly where we want to be.”

“Twelve weeks,” I repeated quietly.

I couldn’t believe it. I was almost through my first trimester.

“And everything looks okay?” I asked.

“So far, everything looks great.”

A breath slowly left me. Beside me, Kyrie let one out too. I immediately looked at him. His eyes were still on the screen.

I smiled. “You was nervous too.”

“Nawl.”

“Kyrie.”

“I wasn’t nervous.”

“You just breathed harder than I did.”

“That don’t mean shit.”

I laughed.

The doctor continued moving across my stomach, taking measurements while Kyrie watched every damn move she made.

Then, his brows pulled together.