Page 139 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“It depends on what I’m painting.”

He nodded, studying the canvases. “Which one would you use if you were teaching somebody?”

I reached for one before his question registered.

Slowly, I turned toward him.

“Teaching somebody?”

“Yeah.”

“Who the hell am I teaching?”

Kyrie looked at me like the answer should’ve been obvious.

I stared back at him.

Then, it clicked.

“Wait.” I looked from him to the canvases. “You trying to paint again?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

A laugh slipped out before I could stop it.

Kyrie’s face twisted. “What the fuck is funny?”

“Nothing.” I pressed my lips together. “I was just thinking about that picture you painted at the museum.”

“What about it?”

“Kyrie, that shit was a mess.”

“Man, fuck you. That was my first time.”

“And it showed.”

His eyes narrowed. “Aight. That's exactly why your ass teaching me this time.”

“Oh, so now you admit you need help?”

“I ain't say all that.”

“Then what did you say?”

“I'm saying you know some shit I don't know.” He shrugged. “So, show me.”

I stared at him for a second before my smile grew.

“You want me to teach you?”

“That's what the fuck I just said, ain't it?”

“You could ask nicer.”

“Sianni, pick a damn canvas.”

“Aight. Bet.”