Page 147 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

That was it. No long speech. No extra shit. Just good.

And somehow, coming from Kyrie, that one word meant more than he likely realized. I smiled and reached up, rubbing my thumb across the paint on his cheek.

“You know you still got paint on your face, right?”

“So do you.”

“Because your ass put it there.”

“And you still fine.”

I rolled my eyes.

“There go them damn eyes.” His hand slid lower on my waist. “Keep rolling them hoes.”

I immediately pointed at him. “Don’t start.”

Kyrie laughed and leaned down to kiss me one more time.

“Come on, Leonardo,” I said when he pulled away. “We need to finish these paintings.”

“Nawl, you need to finish yours.” He walked back toward his canvas and picked up his brush. “Mine damn near a masterpiece.”

I looked over at his painting. It was definitely better than the one he painted at the museum. But masterpiece? His ass was pushing it.

“You know what? I’m proud of you, Big Daddy.”

He looked over at me. “For real?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “You did good.”

A cocky-ass grin immediately took over his face.

“I told you. Natural fucking talent.”

I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut.

I stared at my phone with my lips twisted as I scrolled through the comments underneath some bitch’s post.

Apparently, she had run into Sianni earlier and just had to tell the whole fucking internet about it.

I zoomed in on the picture, studying Sianni’s smiling ass standing beside the girl like she didn’t have a care in the fucking world.

What really pissed me off, though, was the caption.

Kyrie had been there too.

According to the girl, he was the one who took the damn picture for them.

I sucked my teeth and kept scrolling.

See! I knew them blogs was lying. They still together.

I love Kyrie and Sianni together.

That man loves his wife. Y’all gotta let that fake marriage shit GO.

She’s so pretty I see why Kyrie be acting crazy over her.