Page 182 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“Kyrie, I was being sarcastic.”

“I don't give a fuck. Don't play like that.”

I turned toward the window to hide my smile. This man was fucking ridiculous. But if I was honest, I loved seeing this side of him.

Every appointment mattered to Kyrie. Every little update about the baby mattered. If the doctor told me something, he wanted to know. If I felt something different, he wanted to know. Half the time, I couldn't tell who was more pregnant, me or his ass.

And after everything we'd been through to get here, I wasn't about to complain about him loving our baby too much.

By the time we pulled into the parking lot of my doctor’s office, Kyrie had managed to ask me at least three more questions.

I unbuckled my seat belt and looked over at him.

“You done?”

“With what?”

“Asking me shit.”

“Nawl.”

I sucked my teeth and reached for the door. “I figured.”

“I’m just making sure you straight, ma.”

“I am.”

“And my baby?”

I slowly looked back at him. “You do realize your baby is currently inside me, right? So, if I’m straight, chances are the baby is too.”

“Chances?” His face twisted. “See, don’t say shit like that.”

“Oh, my God.”

I climbed out before his ass could start again.

Kyrie laughed as he got out and came around the truck. By the time I reached the sidewalk, his hand had already found mine. I looked down at our fingers intertwined before glancing up at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why you looking at me like that?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Because you’re cute.”

“I know.”

And just like that, the smile disappeared from my face.

“See? That’s why I don’t compliment your ass.”

Kyrie pulled me against his side, laughing. “Come on, beautiful.”

We made our way inside, checked in, and took a seat in the waiting room. Surprisingly, Kyrie stayed quiet as we waited. Every now and then, his thumb brushed the back of my hand, and I knew his ass was probably just as anxious as I was, even if he wasn’t going to admit it.

Truthfully, I was still nervous, not like last time, but it was there. No matter how many times I told myself everything was okay, there was always a small part of me waiting for someone to tell me it wasn’t.