Page 104 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“Oh, yeah, I meant to tell you something.”

“What?”

“Marvin called me while you were gone.”

“Okay…”

“He and Zeek handled that Jamal shit.”

The smile slowly disappeared from my face.

“Handled it how?”

Kyrie looked at me. He didn’t have to say another word. My lips parted slightly as everything clicked into place.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I sat there quietly, trying to process what he had just told me. Jamal had shot Kyrie. Put him in the hospital. Had this man walking around with his arm in a sling and fighting to get back to what he loved.

Still, hearing that somebody had actually been handled hit differently.

“And you’re okay with that?”

Kyrie’s face barely moved.

“That nigga shot me, Sianni.”

“I know.”

“Could’ve killed me.”

My stomach tightened at the thought.

“I know, Kyrie.”

“Then yeah.” His jaw flexed. “I’m good.”

I looked down at his hand still resting against my stomach. This could’ve looked so different. Instead of sitting here arguing with his aggravating ass about doctor’s appointments, I could’ve been—I stopped the thought before it could finish.

“You didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?”

“Nawl.”

My eyes went back to his.

“You sure?”

“Sianni.” His eyebrow lifted. “I said nawl. Marvin made sure I stayed the fuck out of it.”

A breath slipped from me before I could stop it. Kyrie stared at me for a second before that damn smirk slowly returned.

“You was worried about me.”

“Obviously.”

“Aww, shit.” His grin widened. “My baby love me.”