Page 135 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

She looked at him, damn near freezing.

“Oh, my God.”

I bit the inside of my cheek.

Kyrie frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” She laughed nervously then handed him her phone. “I'm sorry. I’m just a huge fan.”

“Aight, cool.” He stood and looked down at the screen. “But this is about my wife right now. Come on.”

I looked over at him. That damn smile was already on his face.

The woman stepped beside me, and we posed while Kyrie held up her phone.

“Aight, hold on.”

He took one.

Then another.

And another.

“Kyrie, damn.” I laughed. “How many pictures are you taking?”

“Shit, I'm making sure y’all got options.”

The woman started laughing beside me.

“Okay, I like him.”

“Don't encourage his ass.”

“Too late.” Kyrie moved slightly. “Aight, one more.”

“You said that three pictures ago.”

“And I'm saying it again. Smile.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled anyway.

Once he was finally satisfied, he handed the woman her phone.

“There.”

She looked through the pictures, and her face lit up.

“Oh, these are cute!”

“See?” Kyrie dropped back into the booth. “I know what the fuck I'm doing.”

I sucked my teeth. “Boy, please.”

The woman thanked me again, then told Kyrie she was a fan of his too. After talking to us for another few seconds, she headed back to her table.

I slid into my seat and reached for my drink.

Kyrie was staring at me.