Page 114 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

She sucked her teeth. “Go take your shower.”

“Aight.” I pointed toward her dress. “And while I’m doing that, you need to change.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I’m not changing my dress.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Sianni.”

“Kyrie.”

I stared at her, and she stared right back. Damn, I loved this stubborn-ass woman.

Finally, she blew out a breath and rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. I’ll change the fucking dress.”

A satisfied grin spread across my face.

“But,” she added, turning toward the stairs, “just know I’m wearing it again when you least expect.”

“Uh-huh.” I followed her. “And just know when you do, I’m gon’ remember this conversation.”

She looked over her shoulder at me. “Whatever.”

I laughed and smacked her ass.

“Kyrie!”

“What?”

She cut her eyes at me before continuing up the stairs, and I followed her, laughing.

Once we got to the bedroom, I grabbed a pair of boxers and headed into the bathroom to take a shower. I had to get my damn mind together because the last thing I needed was to show up to this shoot, looking like my wife had me ready to risk the whole fucking schedule.

After I finished, I dried off, slipped into my boxers, and walked back into the bedroom. Sianni was sitting on the edge of the bed in a different outfit, her bottom lip poked out while she stared at her phone.

I smirked.

“Shawty, you still mad?”

“Nope.” She didn’t even look at me.

“Yes, the hell you are.”

“I said I’m not.”

“Then why you sitting over there with that big-ass lip poked out?”

Her eyes slowly lifted from her phone.

I laughed. “See?”

She rolled her eyes, stood up, and walked right past me without saying another word.

“Dam, ma!” I called after her. “You really mad over the dress.”