Page 24 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

For a second, I just stood there.

Because as long as I didn't take the test, everything was still a possibility. The second I took it, everything could change.

Swallowing hard, I reached out and grabbed a box. Then another. Then put one back.

“Lord.”

A nervous laugh slipped out.

I probably looked crazy as hell, standing there arguing with myself in the middle of Walmart.

Finally, I grabbed one and tossed it into the cart before I could change my mind. The second it landed, my heart started beating faster.

This was really happening.

Or at least I was about to find out if it was.

A few minutes later, I paid for everything and headed back to the truck. The entire drive home, my eyes kept drifting toward the Walmart bag on the passenger seat.

I hated it.

Hated how nervous I was.

Hated how many thoughts were running through my head.

Most of all, I hated how much I wanted the answer.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, my palms were sweating. Grabbing the bag, I headed inside.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

I kicked my shoes off near the door and glanced toward the living room. Kyrie was still stretched out on the couch, asleep.

Again.

A smile pulled at my lips despite everything.

This man could fall asleep anywhere.

For a second, I just stood there looking at him, completely unaware that my whole world might be changing upstairs.

Shaking my head, I tightened my grip on the bag and headed toward the stairs. Each step felt heavier than the last.

By the time I reached the bathroom, my heart was beating so hard I could hear it.

I closed the door behind me, locked it, and set the bag on the counter.

For a second, I just stared at it.

The room suddenly felt too quiet. Too small. Too damn hot.

Slowly, I reached into the bag and pulled the box out.

My stomach flipped.

“Nawl.”

The word came out barely above a whisper.