Page 52 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“I will.”

“And if she starts driving crazy⁠—”

“Kyrie.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’ll be fine.”

His thumb brushed my cheek.

“I know.” His voice dropped lower. “I just hate being away from you.”

My smile softened.

“Come on.”

Before I could grab my bag, he slung it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“I can carry my own bag.”

“I know.”

“Then why you got it?”

“’Cause that's what a real man supposed to do.”

There wasn't much I could say after that.

By the time we made it downstairs, Drayla had already blown the horn again.

“She impatient as hell,” Kyrie muttered.

“Or maybe she just knows you.”

He shot me a look that made me grin.

The second he opened the front door, the Florida heat wrapped around us. Drayla’s SUV sat in the driveway with her window already rolled down.

“There go my favorite pregnant woman!”

“I'm your only pregnant friend,” I called back.

“Exactly.”

Kyrie walked me to the passenger side and set my bag on the ground. Instead of letting me open the door, he reached around me and pulled it open himself.

Drayla smirked.

“Look at Mr. Gentleman.”

He ignored her completely.

“You got everything?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”