Page 181 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“For what?”

“Since shit so fucking funny.”

She scooted farther away from me instead.

I stared at her.

This fucking woman.

And somehow, even with all the bullshit surrounding us, she still knew exactly how to get me out of my head.

For now, I was going to let my agent handle whatever came from that video. Alexia had gotten enough of our fucking attention. And Amani? His ass could wait, too. Right now, the only two people I gave a fuck about were sitting right here in this house with me. One of them just happened to be tucked inside the other, and I planned to keep both their asses safe.

A FEW WEEKS LATER…

The last few weeks had been surprisingly peaceful, and after all the bullshit we’d been dealing with, I wasn’t about to complain.

For once, it felt like Kyrie and I could actually breathe.

There weren’t any new pictures popping up on the blogs, nobody was calling with bullshit, and most importantly, there wasn’t any new drama knocking at our damn door. The mess with Alexia had finally started dying down, and I was perfectly fine with leaving that shit exactly where it belonged: behind me. I had more important things to focus on anyway.

My marriage was in a good place, my pregnancy was becoming more real by the day, and Kyrie had been putting in work with his rehab. Watching everything slowly fall back into place felt good, especially after it seemed like every time we got comfortable, something else came along, trying to knock us off track.

But this time felt different. Things were finally looking up for us. And I prayed like hell they stayed that way.

Today was another doctor’s appointment, and unlike the last time, I wasn’t a nervous wreck.

Well, not completely.

There was still a little anxiety in the pit of my stomach, but I refused to let it take over. My last appointment had gone well. The baby was doing exactly what he or she was supposed to be doing, and I was trying my hardest to enjoy this pregnancy instead of spending every second worried about what could go wrong.

Kyrie, on the other hand, had been getting on my damn nerves since we woke up.

“Did you eat?”

“Yes.”

“You take them vitamins?”

“Yes, Kyrie.”

“You drink some water?”

I slowly turned my head toward him. He sat behind the wheel as if he hadn’t just asked me fiftyleven questions since we left the house.

“Big Daddy.”

“What?”

“If you ask me one more damn question before we get to this doctor’s office, I'm getting out.”

His brows pulled together. “While the car is moving?”

“If that's what it takes.”

“See, this is why I gotta keep checking on your ass. Talking about jumping out a moving fucking car while you pregnant.”

I stared at him. This nigga couldn't be serious.