Page 134 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“You can see a little blob.”

His head snapped up. “Don’t call my baby no damn blob.”

I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Nawl, you ain’t.” He looked back down at the picture. “Hating already.”

“How am I hating on my own child?”

“I don’t know, but you doing it.”

“You are ridiculous.”

He ignored me and went right back to staring at the picture. I couldn’t do anything but smile. Seeing him this excited made it even harder not to get excited myself.

A little while later, our food came, and we fell into an easy conversation while we ate. Kyrie was in the middle of telling me why he was convinced I was carrying a boy when I noticed a woman standing a few feet away from our table.

She looked like she wanted to come over but wasn’t sure if she should.

Kyrie followed my eyes.

“You know her?”

I shook my head. “No.”

The woman must’ve realized we had noticed her because she finally walked over.

“I'm sorry,” she said, giving us a nervous smile. “I really don't mean to interrupt y’all while you're eating.”

“You’re fine,” I assured her.

Her eyes landed on me. “I just wanted to tell you that you are so pretty in person.”

“Oh.” A smile immediately spread across my face. “Thank you.”

“And I love your style. I started following you after I saw some pictures of you online.”

That caught me off guard, not because she knew who I was. I was slowly getting used to that. But she was talking about me.

Not Kyrie. Not football. Me.

“Thank you. For real.”

“You’re welcome.” She hesitated before lifting her phone slightly. “Would you mind if I got a picture with you?”

My brows lifted. “With me?”

She laughed. “Yes, girl. You.”

I couldn't help but laugh with her.

“Yeah, of course.”

I slid out of the booth, and she immediately unlocked her phone before looking around like she was trying to figure out how the hell we were supposed to take the picture.

Kyrie held his hand out.

“Give me the phone.”