Page 65 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“There it go.”

“What?”

“That little smile.” She snapped her fingers. “Every time somebody brings up Kyrie, yo’ ass gets to smiling.”

I looked away, trying to hide it.

“Girl, whatever.”

“Nawl, whatever my ass. Come on before our reservation’s over.”

I laughed, shook my head, then slipped my arm through hers as we headed out of the resort. A black car waited at the curb, the driver already holding the back door open for us.

The ride to the restaurant was quick. Minutes after we walked in, we were seated, and the menus had barely touched the table before the waitress came over to take our drink and food orders.

The second she walked away, my phone started blowing up.

Ding

Ding

Ding.

Back-to-back.

“Girl…” Drayla frowned, one eyebrow creeping up. “Why your phone going crazy? Tell Kyrie’s ass this is our time.”

A laugh slipped out, but it didn’t last long. I flipped my phone over, expecting to see Kyrie’s name lighting up my screen. Instead, my stomach dropped.

“Girl… somebody posted something on the blogs.” I frowned as notification after notification filled my screen. “Me and Kyrie tagged in it.”

“The hell?” Drayla leaned closer. “Click it.”

I tapped the first notification. The picture of me standing in the store, staring at pregnancy tests.

The second was Kyrie and me, then the third was of Amani and me. My breath caught. Then my eyes dropped to the caption.

Word on the street is that Viper's superstar Kyrie Maddox and his wife, Sianni Maddox, could be expecting their first child… but from the looks of it, there might be another man in the picture.

Who is the father?

My mouth flew open. A lump shot up my throat so fast it hurt. Tears blurred my vision before I could stop them.

“Sianni.” Drayla’s voice sounded farther away than it should’ve. “Bitch, are you okay?”

I heard her, but I just couldn’t answer. My mind was moving a thousand miles an hour, trying to make sense of the bullshit on my screen.

Drayla snatched the phone out of my hand before I could blink.

“What the fuck?” she muttered, her eyes scanning the screen.

She swiped through the pictures one by one, her face getting harder with each slide.

“This some messy ass shit.”

I couldn’t even answer. My chest felt tight as I stared at the table, trying to catch my breath.

A few seconds later, the waitress returned with our food, setting our plates down with a smile before asking if we needed anything else.