The Burial of a Player (Jareau Family, #3)

by Kimberly Brown

When women started that subliminal shit with music, things were bound to get petty.

“Game recognize game, baby. I could see it in your eyes the moment you stepped into my sister’s apartment. A man in heat is my favorite smell.”

I’m gonna show you better than I can tell you.”

These are the types of games you wanna play? Fine. You forget that I’m a player too, baby. But when I play, you’re gonna feel that shit in your fucking chest. I promise you that.”

“I’m not crying over a female.” “Alright, but that one,” he said, pointing at Jorja. “That one is gonna make a liar out of you, playa.”

“You said thugs don’t cry.” “Well this thug has been very emotional lately.”

“Were y’all—” “Minding our grown, gay ass business.”

😂😂😂

I like to laugh, and if it was really funny, I was gonna scream.

Lol me

He looked down at the gun in my hands. “Why you got the blicky? You gon’ shoot me, ma?”

Lmfao

“Good morning. I haven’t seen you in a while. I gather you’re in the doghouse.” I shook my head. “I’m not even allowed on the property.”

“I… I love her. I’m in love with her.”

“If you cared the way you said you do, you wouldn’t put her in a position to have any other man comforting your woman the way you’re supposed to.

Lil’ Baby: Stop playing with me, my nigga. Me: You stop playing with me, my nigga.

“I might be short, but you know I’m big dawg, my nigga.”

“Girl, no! That boy still has Similac on his breath,

😂

“Tell me you’re mine, Jorja,” he whispered in my ear. “I need you, baby. I can’t be just your friend. I can’t let any other nigga have you when you’re supposed to be mine. Tell me you’re mine, Ja.”

“You deserve your flowers every day. I had to play catch up, but there is a flower in here for every single day you’ve been a part of my life.