Page 46 of The Love of Priest 2

She lifted the roses to her nose, taking in the fresh aroma of the bouquet. Once Priest shut the door, he went around and climbed into the vehicle himself. She leaned over to kiss his lips. "I love you," she said against his lips.

"Love you too," he professed. "Read the card."

Britain grinned widely as she picked the card from the center of the roses. He watched as she opened it, reading what was written inside.

To Gioia from Priest with love. Welcome to Ibiza, Spain.

"We're in Spain?!" Britain's eyes widened in shock.

Priest chuckled as he nodded. "I lived and we got engaged, so I think that's grounds for a celebratory vacation," he suggested.

Filled with excitement, she laughed at how smug he could be. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek repeatedly. "Thank you, P," she expressed her gratitude. "You're the best."

Priest shrugged dismissively as he intertwined their hands together. "This is nothing," he said as he waved her off. "I just want to keep all my promises to you."

Britain was jubilating in so much excitement, she couldn't even come up with any words to render Priest a response.

She simply wrapped her arms around him once more, smothering him in a multitude of kisses.

As they drove through Ibiza, she stared out the window like an anxious child.

She fawned at the clear blue waters and the gorgeous view the island had to offer.

The drive to their luxurious villa had her on the edge of her seat.

Once they arrived, she didn't even wait for Priest to come around and open the door.

He laughed as he got out of the car, making his way around to her.

"You like it?" he asked as he gestured toward the villa he had rented for their stay.

"Do I like it?" Britain scoffed. "I love it!"

This was the happiest he'd seen her in a while, so he was basking in it.

"C'mon, crazy." He tossed his arm around her shoulder as they began walking toward the entrance of the villa.

The cobble stone pathway led them to the beautiful white stone villa that was decorated with skyscraping palm trees.

The waters surrounding it were so massive that Britain could see the deep blue water all the way from the front of the house.

Unable to contain herself, she jumped up and down in excitement as Priest opened the door for her. "Slow down," she heard him call out behind her in amusement as she rushed inside.

She looked around the villa, instantly captivated by the classic white décor of the home.

The floors were canvassed in a beautiful tile that complimented the crisp white furniture.

Averting her eyes upward, she fawned over the wooden beams that lined the ceiling.

The home gave the perfect beach vibe they both needed.

She turned around on her heels, jolting toward Priest and springing into his arms. She hoisted herself up to wrap her legs around his torso. "Yo, I did just get shot a few days ago," he winced in pain as he reminded her.

Clicking back into reality, Britain hopped off him with an apologetic expression etching her face. "Sorry, P. I forgot."

"It's alright,Gioia , " he assured her with a chuckle.

Once their bags were carried into the house, he tipped and thanked the driver before he left. "I didn't even pack for a vacation, P," Britain told him as she snaked her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest.

"Don't trip off that. I have everything figured out," he assured her as he cupped her plump rear in his hands.

The two roamed the villa, taking in all the amenities and the beauty of it.

The backyard was fitted with a perfect view of the water just beyond the hot sandy shore.

Despite the house being a waterfront property, it was still equipped with a stunning infinity pool that mirrored the ocean nearby.

"Awe, this reminds me of the Hamptons," Britain reminisced as they both gazed over the scenery.

"It does," he agreed. "But we're not in the Hamptons. We're in Spain, where the thought of New York shouldn't cross your mind."

Britain laughed as she nodded, taking note of Priest's response. "Out of sight, out of mind."

"That's better." Priest smiled as he craned down to kiss her lips.

Despite how thrilled the two were to be in Ibiza, they couldn't really fight their jet lag after the lengthy flight. Instead of going out for dinner like he intended to, they decided on staying in to relax.

Priest now stood between Britain's legs as she sat on the countertop of the bathroom sink.

She had a small damp washcloth in hand and was using it to cleanse both of Priest's stitched up wounds.

His injuries still hurt to the touch, so she was being extremely cautious of the amount of pressure she applied.

Even the slightest touch would have him clenching his jaws in pain.

"Have you heard about your father?" Britain asked sporadically as she attempted to distract him from the pain he was in.

Priest’s eyes shifted away from her cautious hands and focused on her face. He had his face screwed up in a distasteful manner, completely caught off guard by the question. "Leonard," he quickly corrected her referencing him as his father. "And why are you asking?"

Britain’s orbs peered up from the wounds, eyeing him. She then noticed the frown on his face, which made her regret mentioning Leonard. She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, P. I was just wondering, y'know, with all the chaos going on," she explained.

Priest licked his lips, bracing himself for the pain he felt whenever Britain tapped the damp towel against the wounds. "Look, Brit. I don't want you getting mixed up in anything else?—"

"Priest, we're just talking. That has never stopped us before," she reasoned, trying her best to not be shut out by him.

Priest sighed. "Yeah,Gioia, but that was before you almost jumped in front of a bullet for me," he reminded her, shaking his head.

"I wasn't successful," Britain scoffed before pointing to Priest's injuries. "Clearly."

Britain was doing what she did best: hovering .

Whenever he was serious about the matter, she committed herself to being as lighthearted about it as possible.

He was the one who had gotten physically hurt.

She didn't think she had the right to be the one emotionally obsessing over the issue.

Priest used his hand to guide Britain's head up so he was peering right into her eyes.

"Stop," he ordered her in a stern voice.

He was aware of what Britain was doing and didn't like it at all.

After spending a night crying and expressing to him how scarred she was by the incident, she had now completely detached herself from it.

She felt like she had her moment and was ready to put it behind her.

"Priest—"

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Britain," Priest refused. "Once we start talking, you get too invested, and I don't want to cross that line in our relationship anymore."

Britain rolled her eyes, completely against his new set of boundaries. "So, what you're saying is you don't trust me?" she asked, in need of some clarification.

"Britain, you can't handle it," he said to her in a much lighter tone.

"I feel like you're underestimating me, Priest," she huffed in frustration.

"All I've been doing is handling it. I keep it together.

That's what I do. That's what I've always done.

" Britain didn't want to come off as argumentative, especially when they were in a beautiful island to celebrate, but she wanted to set some things straight.

Before she could continue to pat his stitched-up wounds with the towel, he grabbed ahold of her wrist lightly.

A defeated sigh aired out of her as she sat the towel aside.

She rolled her eyes deeply as she felt his hands cup her face.

He steered her attention back onto him so she could see how serious he was about the matter.

"Britain, I commend you for having the strength to overcome every bad thing that has ever happened to you, but I can't take advantage of that. I refuse to be the cause of any more trauma in your life. You've seen and heard enough."

Britain pursed her lips to prevent herself from letting out a rebuttal. There was no changing his mind, even if she had a solid argument. He always had her best interests at heart. No matter how much she didn't like his decision, this was no different.

"So, what do we call this new set of boundaries?" Britain muttered defeatedly.

"Consider it church and state," he settled.“I only want to protect you.”

"Whatever you say.”

Priest’s phone sounded off beside them, causing her to reach over to grab it. "J'Ru's calling,” she informed him.

Priest looked down at the phone as it continued to ring. He was debating on even answering the call because he knew J'Ru would only call if something was wrong. A sigh aired out of him as he grabbed the phone to answer it.

"I gotta take this," he told Britain, excusing himself for the phone call.

"I can't even listen to phone calls anymore?!" Britain called behind him.

"Church and state, Britain!" he reminded her of the new set of boundaries.

Once he was far enough away to ensure she wouldn't be able to hear any parts of his conversation, he held the phone up to his ear. "Yo, you know we in two different time zones, right?" Priest furrowed his brows, confused about why J'Ru was calling him.

"Yeah, and you know I wouldn't call unless it was important," J'Ru said to him with a deep amount of stress in his tone.

Priest ran his hand down his face in distress.

He hadn't even left New York for a day, and he was already being served with issues.

He was sure J'Ru and Kaymen tried their best to handle the situation without bringing him on, so whatever it was probably needed dire attention.

"What is it?" he asked, ready to take it on.

J'Ru sighed as she shook his head. "It's Sylvia, man. She's trying to blow up our whole spot right now."

A huff of frustration exhaled out of Priest at the mention of his mother.

Priest had long forgotten about his mother and her antics.

She had been the least of his worries for a while now, so he didn't touch bases with her when the word about him being dead aired on the news. Of course, that was one of the biggest mistakes he could’ve ever made.

Silvia was theatrical and yearned for attention, so there was no telling what she was doing right now to get it.

"What the fuck did she do now?" Priest groaned.

Despite the situation not being anything to laugh about, J'Ru let out a chuckle.

He had to admit Silvia had completely gone over their heads with this one.

"She called a press conference with every fucking news outlet there is in the city.

She's wilding, acting all concerned and shit like she gives a fuck," he scoffed.

Just like any other time, Sylvia was bound to put on a fucking show. She played the doting mother role well, but Priest and everybody else in his camp could see through all the bullshit. "If I'm gone, so is her lifestyle," Priest stated, putting it in perspective for J'Ru.

"I'm about to send you the clips from the press conference. Get back to me whenever you figure out how much you wanna pay her off with," J'Ru replied, immediately assuming that Priest was just going to offer his mother some hush money so she would keep out of his business.

A scoff aired out of Priest as he shook his head. "She ain't getting shit out of me," he clarified. "I'll hit you back soon."

When the call ended, Priest exhaled a deep sigh of agitation. Instead of carrying his conflicted demeanor back to Britain, he reevaluated himself and pushed the thought of his mother to the back of his mind.

Once he returned to the bedroom, Britain eyed him up and down, trying to pinpoint a sense of anger or even worry within him, but she couldn't.

"What was that about?" she asked, unable to suppress the urge to know everything.

Priest made his way to the other side of the bed, aiding her with untucking the duvet so they could sleep comfortably. "I want a small and intimate wedding. Nothing as big as Kaymen and Jadey's," he responded to her, completely disregarding her question.

Britain watched as he got into the bed, waiting for her to do so as well. "That's not what I asked you about, Priest," she clarified as she got into bed.

Priest tossed his arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. "I know, but that's what I'm telling you. That's all I'm telling you," he asserted, letting her know that she wasn't about to shake anything out of him. There was now a clear line.

Church and state.