Page 49 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“No, I’m not.” He eased back onto the bed beside me, looking way too proud of himself. “Baby, I know you. I know how you move. When you ain’t got that coffee in your system, you turn into a bitch. No offense.”

I cut my eyes at him before shaking my head.

“I hate you.”

“Nawl.” A crooked smile tugged at his lips. “You love me.”

I tried to hold my attitude, but he wasn’t wrong. Coffee was damn near the fuel that kept me functioning, and we both knew it.

After I finished my breakfast and the last of my juice, I rinsed my dishes and headed back upstairs. The second I stepped into our bedroom, I pulled out my phone and called Drayla.

Honestly, I was praying she’d tell me she was close because if Kyrie got his hands on me one more time before I left, I already knew how that was about to end.

The phone rang once, then twice, and by the third ring, she answered.

“Yo! Bitch, what’s up?” Drayla hollered through the speaker.

“Hey, girl.” I laughed, dropping onto the edge of the bed.

“You good over there? How’s my little niece or nephew?”

“We good. Baby’s good too.” I smiled, rubbing my stomach without even thinking about it. “I was calling to see what time you were coming through.”

“Girl, I’m pulling out now. You ready?”

“Yes. Please hurry up.”

She laughed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

I let out a long sigh.

“Kyrie trying to put my ass through the mattress again. He already wore me out last night, and I’m still sore.”

“Aww.” She cackled. “My poor bestie.”

“Yeah… poor me.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Okay.”

After we hung up, I tossed my phone onto the bed and walked over to the closet. I grabbed a few things to throw into my bag, making sure I had everything before Drayla pulled up.

I had just zipped my bag when Kyrie slid up behind me, wrapping both arms around my waist before I could even take a step. A smile tugged at my lips as I leaned back against his chest.

“You really couldn't let me leave in peace, huh?”

His warm breath ghosted over my ear.

“Peace?” he murmured. “You leaving me for three days. Ain't nothing peaceful about that shit.”

A laugh threatened to escape, but I fought it.

“It’s three days, Kyrie. Not three months.”

His arms tightened just enough for me to feel it.

“Still too long.”