Page 22

Chapter Seventeen

Britain secured her arms around Priest tightly. He had convinced her to hold onto him as he explored the deepest section of the pool in the backyard of his house. Britain was far more comfortable in the three feet area, but the fact that Priest made swimming in the six feet look so effortless awakened the daredevil in her.

"Just relax." His rugged yet suave voice rang in her ears. "I'm not gonna let you go," he assured her.

"Priest, I can't feel the ground. I'm about to panic," she warned him with a frightened look etched on her face.

Priest chuckled. "Brit, if you try to touch the ground, your whole head will be under water," he reminded her since they were in the deepest part of the pool.

"Priest, if you let me go, I swear…" she warned him as she clenched his shoulders.

"How you expect to learn how to swim if I don't let you go?" He raised a brow, challenging her logic.

Britain smacked her lips. "Let's just go back to the three feet, please."

He agreed with a light laugh. Holding her close, he navigated through the water, ascending from the deep end to the shallower end where Britain was more comfortable. The two had only been in the pool for a few minutes. The sun had set, and the moon had taken its place in the sky. Priest lifted her, seating her on the tiled poolside. He stood tall between her legs, resting his arms on her thighs. "You done being all scary?"

"Yup." Britain smiled with a nod of her head.

He shook his head, shaming her playfully. "Let's get out of here," Britain suggested while she cupped his face in both of her hands.

"Out the pool?" he asked for clarification.

Britain nodded her head in confirmation. "Out the house, too. It's only like eight. Let's go out," she attempted to convince him with a radiant smile.

Priest eyed her for a moment, seeing the slight excitement in her eyes. "Cool," he agreed. "Go get ready. I'll follow you up."

"Don't have me waiting too long, Kanaz,"she warned him before getting up.

Priest chuckled at the use of his middle name. "I won't, Dulce," he assured, teasing her with her own middle name.

Britain walked over to the pool chair where their towels were resting. She wrapped one around her waist before her wet feet pitter-pattered along the cold tile floors, coursing through the home. Over the two days they had spent in the Hamptons home, Britain was able to take in the beauty of it. The architecture of the house was much more modern than the neighbors who weren't accessible for at least a mile. Priest loved the fact that his home was isolated from the busyness of the Hampton area. It was his getaway, so he didn’t like much bothering him. Britain couldn't deny the fact that she somewhat liked the seclusion as well. The beach ran for miles and miles, and it was beginning to feel like they had their own reserved section of it where no one else bothered to frequent or flock.

The majority of the time spent in the house was either in the bedroom, the downstairs lounging area, or the backyard that was graced with the beauty and relaxation of the beach. Priest never really showed her around the home; however, he did promise her that she would soon be familiar with each and every room in the home— whatever that meant.

Ascending the stairs, Britain reached the bedroom. As she was prepping herself for a steamy shower, her phone rang while it was charging on the nightstand. Trying to make it quick, Britain skipped over to her phone, answering it without bothering to see who was calling first.

"Hello," she answered, immediately face palming herself once she finally realized that it was her father, Remy, calling.

"Hey, Daddy's baby. I noticed you haven't stopped by lately." Jeremy furrowed his brows on the other side of the call. Britain had pretty much gone AWOL, just as she had with Jadey. It wasn't her intention, but Priest seemed to take up all her time, and she did the same to him.

Britain chuckled. "Hey, daddy. I've been busy lately," she told him as she navigated from Priest's bedside to his conjoined open space bathroom.

"You have, huh?" It was evident to Britain that Remy wasn't buying any of her shit, but could he really question her? She was a grown woman who paid her own bills and cared for herself. Remy couldn't really scold her for being an adult and not wanting to explain herself to him.

Britain nodded as she put her father on mute so she could let out a loud groan. "Britain, he freaking knows something." She spoke out loud as she peered at herself in the mirror. Letting out a deep breath, Britain gathered her composure and took her father off mute. "Yeah, I have. Life's just been getting hectic. What's up with you, though?"

Remy chuckled at his daughter's mannerisms, finding her absentminded, yet overly obvious nerves funny. "Same shit, Brit. You know your pops don't get out much."

"Well, you should change that. Daddy, life doesn’t stop giving until you're in the grave," Britain preached confidently, reciting the exact words of Priest.

Remy bit down on his bottom lip, deep in thought. " Life doesn’t stop giving until you're in the grave ," Remy recited after his daughter. His tone was somewhat uncertain and questioning, but he wasn't going to press his daughter about anything until he was certain. "You been around a church lately? You don't never drop gems like that on your old man," Remy teased.

Releasing a laugh, Britain shook her head. "No, I actually got someone's story, and he said it, so I quoted it. It’s something to live by, though." Britain shrugged her shoulders.

"Sure is," Remy agreed. "I'll let you get going. Don't need life kicking your ass any more than it already is." They both released light chuckles. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Britain winced at the fact that she wouldn't be able to set something up with her father the following day since she was three hours away from where he resided and wasn't planning on returning for another two days. "Actually, I have a lot going on. I still have to help Jadey with her second wedding, so how about we set something up later this week?" Britain suggested.

Jeremy nodded his head. "Fine with me. I'll be here waiting," he assured Britain.

"Love you, dad." Britain smiled.

Jeremy matched her smile. "Love you too, Dulce." With that, the phone call ended, causing Britain to let out a nerve-ridden sigh that had been weighing down on her chest since the beginning of her phone call with Remy. Turning on her heels to return her phone to the charger, she was startled by the presence of Priest. He was propped against the threshold of the bathroom with his arms folded across his chest.

"When the fuck did you get up here?" Britain pressed her hand firmly against her chest over her thumping heart.

A light smirk graced Priest's face. "Just now," he enlightened her. "You alright? Look like you just seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," she assured him while catching her breath and calming her heart. "I just didn't hear you come up."

"I'm a thief in the night," he jested before abruptly changing the subject. "I hope you know Remy knows you're lying to him. He's just gathering his proof."

Britain smacked her lips, not believing a word Priest said. "Jokes on him. I'm not even lying. There's nothing for me to lie about anyways." Britain shrugged while facing the mirror so she could watch herself tie her hair up for her shower.

"Just tell him,Gioia." Priest made his way behind her, pressing his body against hers while planting his palms on the marbled countertops of the his-and-hers sinks.

Britain rolled her eyes. "Tell him what, Priest?" she asked after she successfully tied her hair up into a messy bun.

Priest enjoyed how defensive Britain got when it came to this conversation. This highlighted the fact that even though she kept declaring how grown she was, she still didn't want to disappoint her father. Priest couldn't even lie. If his own daughter was dealing with a man like him, even he would be a little concerned and want shit to come to an immediate end. Remy was from the streets, and he knew how shit went on a day-to-day basis. Priest could understand if Remy felt some type of way about him and Britain. But was that going to stop Priest? Absolutely not. His obligation was to Britain. As long as they were satisfied, Priest wasn’t bothered by how anyone else in her life felt.

"Tell him how you in the Hamptons kicking it with ya’ boy." Priest craned his head down, nestling his face into the crook of Britain's neck. Britain laughed lightly at the feeling of his lips pressed gently along her neck. "How I'm introducing you to the joy in life," he continued before his tongue swirled lightly over the same spot on her neck that he had just kissed.

"Don't flatter yourself. I can have any man in New York doing the things you do," she scoffed jokingly.

Priest lifted his head from the crook of Britain's neck, eyeing her. The little look on his face was amusing to Britain. He was clearly offended. "Word? That's what we doing now?"

Britain let out a laugh, causing Priest's face to soften a bit. "I'm kidding. However, I don't wanna inflate your ego."

Priest smacked his lips, waving her off. "You know I don't have no ego," he clarified. "Egos are for the insecure, and the last thing I am is insecure." The seriousness in his tone warned Britain that she should tread lightly on the whole ego thing.

"You always have something smooth to say?" Britain smirked as she looked at him through the mirror.

Priest shrugged his shoulders with a light chuckle. "I'm not sure. What you think?" Priest lowered his head back into the crook of Britain's neck, resuming his light kisses he was fluttering along her skin.

Britain let out another laugh as she felt his warm tongue flick lightly against her neck before he sealed the spot with a light kiss. "Alright, get out so I can get ready."

"We can get ready together," Priest proposed, causing a shudder to branch from Britain's spine.

"Goodbye, Priest." Britain shook her head with a light laugh as she used her hands to push him off.

Priest nodded his head with a little smirk. "Look gorgeous for me,Gioia." He applied a subtle kiss onto her cheek.

"I'll try." Britain responded to him over her shoulder as he trekked out of the bathroom to go get ready himself.

"Effortlessly!" he shouted back to her, causing her face to heat up instantly and her cheek bones to heighten at the compliment.

After Britain's long and therapeutic steamy shower, she got out, wrapping her bare body in a plush white towel. Luckily for Britain, she already had her attire planned out in her head, so it wouldn't take long for her to get herself together. However, she was completely stumped on what look she would go for makeup wise. She was willing to wing it, though. Priest put her under no rush, so she completed her look in peace. Once she was done, she looked herself over in the mirror, satisfied with how she was able to pull the look together. Without a clue where Priest was taking her, she figured it would be best not to overdo her attire. She opted for a pair of 90’s fit, wide leg jeans, which she paired with a white cropped shirt. For some extra height and confidence, her feet were adorned in a pair of strappy black heels that peaked through the wide legged bottom hem of her jeans. Instead of straightening her jet-black tresses, she let them flow gracefully down her back in their wavy texture.

After spraying her pulse points with Baccarat Rouge, she began making her way down to the first level of the home. Upon getting downstairs, she saw Priest leaned over the island with a glass that was half full of brown liquor in his hand. He kept himself occupied with a phone call that he seemed really invested in.

"I can deal with you being confused, but as for quitting, you can dead that." Priest shook his head as he addressed the person on the other end of the phone call.

Britain didn't want to invade with her presence, so she just hung behind, taking a seat not too far away. Priest could feel her presence, but that didn't put an end to his phone conversation.

Britain eyed him as he let out a heavy sigh before he downed the rest of his drink. "New York has nothing for you out here. You with the best of the best out in Paris," Priest continued trying to prevent his little sister from making an irrational decision. "Groan all you want, Jaz. I'm not changing my mind." Priest shook his head.

"There's so many other places in the world that have a fashion scene. We got L.A., Atlanta, Miami. Why you so hell-bent on New York?" he scoffed at his little sister.

Britain could hear the exchange of words get louder on Jazzy's part. However, Britain couldn’t make out what she was saying since Priest had the phone pressed against his ear. Britain found the way he spoke to his sister like he was the authoritative figure amusing. From this present interaction, Britain could tell that Priest would eventually be giving in and letting Jazzy have her way. Britain was the same way with her younger brother, Brixton, and younger sister, Brea.

Priest let out a huff of air laced with full annoyance. "Jaz, what part of you can't be with me right now don't you understand?" Priest asked her the rhetorical question.

He listened to his sister's elaborate response, rolling his eyes occasionally since she did hit on a few good points to strengthen her reason behind coming back home to New York temporarily. Priest smacked his lips before finally giving in to Jazzy.

"Just get to the ramp on time. Don't expect to stay out here for long either. After the holidays, it's a wrap for you out here," he gave her a fair warning. "Love you too, Jazzy-Fae," he sighed before they ended the phone call.

Britain smiled at the love he had for his little sister. Priest seemed to have so much love in his heart to give, but he lacked people to give it to. The ones closest to him received love in overflowing amounts. It was obvious that no one received the same amount of love that Jazzy received from him.

"You ready to go?" Britain spoke up, catching Priest's attention.

Turning around to face her, Priest nodded as he slid his device in the pocket of his all-black jeans. He looked irresistible in his blue and white Balenciaga shirt that was stamped with the brand name along the wingspan of his back. He had laced himself with platinum and diamond-studded jewelry, his raging bull piece catching Britain's attention first. His wrist was iced out in a platinum and diamond drenched Cuban link that matched the ice around his neck.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he apologized for his impromptu phone call from his little sister. "You look gorgeous, just as I expected, but you don’t need those." He shook his head while pointing to the strappy heels she had on.

Britain looked down at her feet and then back up at him. “Thank you, but I just thought I should?—”

Before she could even finish her statement, he had already crouched down and begun undoing the straps of her heels. Once he unfastened the heels, he aided her out of them. “These would be more comfortable,” he advised Britain as he maneuvered through the home toward the sliding door that led to the beach. He grabbed the Tory Burch sandals that Britain slipped off before she made her way to the pool earlier in the evening. Returning with the sandals, he sat them down before Britain so she could step into them. Britain thanked him for his assistance, which he assured her was nothing.

"Let's get out of here," he suggested, and Britain agreed. With their hands fused together, they exited the home. With his help, Britain got into the vehicle. Priest followed suit, getting in himself.

"You alright?" Britain asked Priest. "You seem distant."

With their hands still laced together, Priest used the other to drive. He took his eyes off the road momentarily so he could glance at Britain. He was shocked that she was even able to notice the shift in his demeanor.

"I seem distant?" Priest restated her words, this time in a questioning manner, surprised that she was able to pick up on it.

Britain nodded her head. "Yeah. Usually, you'll be sparking conversation or clowning me about something," she jested as his grip on her hand faltered and went to her left thigh instead.

Priest let out a chuckle, trying not to damper the mood with his worries. "My sister Jazzlyn is coming in from Paris once we get back."

"Ouch, you're worried about balancing Jazzlyn, Paris, London, Britain, andGioia," she winced out teasingly, causing a laugh to erupt out of him.

"That too." He nodded, still in laughter at how lighthearted she was. "But I'm more worried about keeping her and my mom away from each other. Unlike me, Jazzy believes in all that vengeance shit you were talking about. For a lack of better words, she hates her."

Jazzlyn, who was just as much of a ferocious female as Sylvia, always spoke her mind, despite whether her words pleased people or not. Jazzlyn had been calling her mother out on her bullshit since the age of nine. She got slapped around a few times for it, but that only made her list of grievances longer. As much as Priest tried to diffuse the constant animosity between his little sister and mother, it always went left. Jazzlyn always felt like Priest was protecting the woman that did so much harm in their lives, and that didn't sit well with her. This was one of the main reasons why Priest kept Jazzlyn far, far away. It was less stress on him.

Britain glanced at him. Although she wasn't going to verbally say that she believed Jazzlyn had every right to feel the way she felt, she knew her face told it all to Priest. "A’ight, I know that look." Priest shook his head with a short chortle.

"What look?" Britain raised a questioning brow.

"The one you just did. The “I see no problem” look." He pointed to her face.

A short laugh filtered out of Britain. "Okay, well, I don’t blame her. You guys grew up together, but her trauma is different from yours. The way she copes with it in regard to your mother is warranted. You can’t really try to force your beliefs of being nice to your mother onto her," she stated her opinion.

“I’m not trying to force her. It’s more like saving her from bad karma. If I can forgive my mother and coexist, so can she.” Priest shook his head, remaining stubborn.

This caused Britain to screw her face up in disdain. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you can’t tell her when she needs to forgive her mother. That sounds controlling and unfair. Why do men always think they can do shit like that?”

Priest let out a groan. "Are we seriously gonna get into this feminist shit?"

"Well, excuse me for calling you out on your bullshit. I’ll let you go back to living in your controlling little man world," Britain scoffed. She and Priest often had conversations just as heavy as this one. Priest knew Britain as reserved and timid, but when he got to picking her mind and delving into deep conversation, her layers peeled back, and she was way louder and more outspoken than he thought.

"A man's world? That's what you call it?" Priest chuckled, finding her a tad bit dramatic.

Britain nodded her head confidently. "‘Cause that's what it is, and you know it. You think because you’re over it and patched things up with your mother, Jazzy should too. You’re not taking her feelings into consideration at all, so instead of allowing her to deal with your mother accordingly, you’re trying to silence her by keeping her away. That one argument you’re trying to avoid them having could break new ground in Jazzlyn’s healing, which she deserves."

A heavy silence took over the vehicle as Priest digested everything from Britain’s perspective. He had never really stepped outside of himself to view things from Jazzlyn’s point of view. He thought keeping the peace was good for everyone, but all along, it had only been serving him and had proven to be a disservice to Jazzlyn. His silence worried Britain a bit. She didn’t know how he was processing what she had just told him. The last thing she wanted to do was overstep, but she just had to be honest with him.

“I need somebody like you in my corner to get me right sometimes.” Priest shook his head, ashamed of himself.

Britain pursed her lips, relieved that he hadn’t taken any offense to what she said. “You’re not perfect, and I don’t expect you to be. Holding yourself accountable is all the progress that’s needed, and I commend you for that.”

A faint smile graced Priest’s face as he nodded his head. “I appreciate that,” he expressed his gratitude.

For the rest of the ride, they played music instead of having a conversation. Priest still needed time to digest what Britain told him, and she was okay with that. The drive lasted all of thirty minutes before Priest came to a smooth stop and parked the vehicle.

He never really got out much, so he only frequented a few of the spots the Hamptons had to offer. The boardwalk was often his go-to spot since many small business owners ventured table to table to get their products and services out to the people. He was always down to support a small business. With the moon creeping into the sky, Priest was sure the boardwalk still had a ton of festivities to offer, so he decided to bring Britain here.

Once he paid the parking meter, he helped Britain out the car, allowing her to take a quick look around. Feeling the brisk wind flutter over her skin, she felt a calm wash over her. Together, they stepped onto the boardwalk, letting the bright lights and joyous atmosphere hold their undivided attention. Although Priest was enjoying his surroundings, the contagious smile plastered on Britain's face brought him far more joy. Her eyes lit up in excitement at the sight of all the lights and the thrilling people they had encounters with.

Her laughter fluttered through his ears, warming his heart. "You think you can win that for me?" Britain asked while pointing to a big stuffed dolphin that was displayed as a prize for a carnival game.

Priest scoffed. "I'll win all this shit for you. Yo, run me a round!" He skipped the line, going straight to the counter where the carnival basketball game was being conducted.

Sheepishly, Britain followed behind Priest, apologizing to those who were in line awaiting their turn patiently. "Priest, you can't just skip the whole line." She attempted to drag him to the back of the line by his arm.

"Chill out. I got this," he assured Britain before turning to the snappy people in line who weren't pleased by him skipping. "Everyone’s first round on me. That cool with y'all?" he proposed the irresistible deal. Unanimously, the entire line of people agreed, allowing Priest to go first. Fishing in his pocket, he retrieved a folded stack of money, fingering through a slew of different denominations before he halted at the core of the stack where the blue bills were. Pulling a crisp blue hundred-dollar bill from the stack, he handed it to the middle-aged white male who was running the whole game.

"Lord, you better win this, or I'm gonna be so embarrassed." Britain pinched the bridge of her nose, causing Priest to laugh as the man handed him the first of the four balls he had to shoot perfectly into the different hoops that were set higher and higher through the game.

Priest smirked confidently as his hands gripped the medium sized ball. "Let me impress you real quick." Running his tongue over his lips in concentration, he rotated the first ball in his hand before extending his long, tattoo-decorated arms for the shot. Beginner’s luck was on his side, and he managed to knock down the first shot with ease.

As confident as ever, Priest went shot after shot, breezing them right through the hoop. Once he got down to the last ball and the tallest hoop, he shot Britain a wink before shooting it. Like magic, the ball went through the hoop effortlessly, causing the man running the game to press down on his air horn in celebration of Priest’s successful run through all four hoops.

"Get my shorty the dolphin up top." Priest pointed to the big stuffed animal that Britain had her eye on.

Once Priest got the dolphin, he turned to face Britain with a charming smile on his face, cockiness oozing out of him. He handed the dolphin to Britain, who squealed in excitement that he got her what she wanted. Britain wrapped her arms around the dolphin, snuggling her face against the plush fur of the stuffed animal.

"You're the best," Britain gushed.

Priest chucked at the fact that the stuffed animal was practically her size. "‘Preciate that." He draped his arms around her shoulders. "You impressed?"

Britain hiked her head up with a radiant smile. "I can’t front. I am," she assured him. Priest craned down, pecking her lips twice before mirroring her smile.

As the night continued, Priest and Britain alternated playing different games that were lined up on the boardwalk, along with indulging in a few carnival snacks. The boardwalk gave the carnival vibe throughout the year, and that alone amazed Britain.

As they continued walking the boardwalk hand in hand, Britain gazed at the beauty of the array of lights surrounding them from the different attractions and small restaurant spots that had set up shop on the walk. "Why'd you bring me here?" Britain randomly asked Priest as they locked eyes with each other.

Priest furrowed his thick brows together. "You're not enjoying it?" He returned with a question of his own. Britain nodded her head, assuring him she was.

"I am. I love it. I just wanna know your reasoning." She shrugged as she continued to cling to the stuffed animal.

Absentmindedly, Priest breathed a sigh of relief before shrugging. "I don't know. This is just a spot that is guaranteed great vibes. My sister and I come out here when she's visiting," he enlightened her.

"Will I ever get the pleasure of meeting her?" Britain inclined her orbs up at him.

Without any hesitation, Priest nodded his head. "Definitely. You two seem to have a lot in common." He smiled lightly. "She's gonna be a little hard ass at first. The tougher she is, the more she likes you. She's just trying to see if you crack under pressure."

"From what you've seen, does it look like I'll crack under pressure?" Britain questioned Priest once more.

Priest let out a little sigh before his shoulders motioned in a shrugging manner. "We'll see," he concluded.

Britain wanted to question him further but decided not to. She didn’t want to be cognizant of whatever he had in store for her. She wanted him to see how well she could adapt to any situation that he believed to be pressure.

Priest allowed Britain to decide where they would be eating. With a joyous smile on her face, she chose the spunky South African food truck that had an abundance of bright lights, along with loud Afro-beat music pumping from its speakers.

After Britain gave the gentleman in the truck a very detailed order for both her and Priest, she enjoyed the music while they waited for the food. Priest, who was seated at one of the tables, let out a laugh as Britain accepted a dance from an elderly man who had been giving her the bedroom eyes since his eyes landed on her. Britain kept up with the quick steps of the music, swaying her hips side to side while moving in rhythm with the older man.

The older man told Britain to address him as Robby, and his wife ended up making her way toward Priest, urging him to take her hand for a dance. Not finding it within himself to turn down the sweet old lady, Priest sheepishly got up from his seat, letting the short lady drag him toward the center of the boardwalk where Robby and Britain were dancing to the upbeat sounds of the music.

Alongside them, Priest and the woman known as Lizette danced. Priest knew he was probably looking like a complete fool since he was as stiff as an ironing board, but he didn't care. The laughter erupting out of Britain and the smile masking her face at the sight of him dancing alongside her was enough to erase any self-doubt about his horrible attempts to keep up with Lizette's dancing.

As the song came to an end, Lizette hugged Priest, thanking him for the good time. "She loves you, my boy. Take very good care of her," she told Priest with a warm smile and a pat on his back before she glanced over at Britain who was in laughter from Robby's aimless flirting.

" Love ?" A smile crept onto Priest's face. "How are you so sure? We’re just getting to know each other," Priest countered Lizette.

Lizette let out a little laughter at the fact that Priest, who looked so tough and invincible, softened up almost instantly at the mention of Britain loving him.

"I'm a woman, and I can feel it. Gal can't keep her gorgeous eyes off you even for a second." Lizette and Priest’s eyes gravitated toward Britain, who already had her eyes fixed on him. "Stop living life so black and white. You hear what I'm telling you, my boy? Live in the gray for a while," Lizette preached to Priest, her words inflicting him in ways even he couldn't explain. "Let me go get my husband before he takes your woman home," she teased, leaving Priest's side to retrieve Robby.

After Britain thanked Robby for the dance, she scurried her way over to Priest, who accepted her with open arms. "You gotta give me a dance. I really feel like I deserve one." She smiled up at him.

"Why you think that?" Priest secured his arms around her waist before smirking down at her.

"Because." She glanced over her shoulder with a little laughter at the sight of Robby sending her heart shaped hand gestures. "I didn't leave you for Robby's smooth ass."

"Pimp playa', huh?" Priest teased.

Britain nodded. "From the Himalayas." They both erupted in laughter at her response. "Everyone wants a piece of Britain." She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

Britain was able to convince Priest to give her one more dance while they continued to wait. As Priest held Britain's sides, she twisted her hips to the beat of the music. Just as the song concluded, their order number was called. Full of energy, Britain skipped back over to the truck, thanking the gentleman for the food.

Priest pulled out her chair for her so she could be seated at the table before taking a seat across from her. The habit now instilled in her from spending so much time with Priest, she joined hands with him before bowing her head while he led them in a quick prayer.

Britain moaned at the blissful taste of the food that danced around in her mouth. Priest chuckled at the fact that she was enjoying it so much. "Why are you staring so hard?" Britain eyed him with a playful mean mug, highlighting the fact that Priest’s dark orbs were boring into hers.

Priest licked his lips before a smile formed on his face. "Nothing, just studying you." He shrugged.

"Studying me?" Britain furrowed her brows. "What have you learned so far?" She instantly grew intrigued by the conversation, now dividing her attention between her food and Priest.

"You live life in the gray," Priest observed, causing Britain's face to screw up in confusion since she really had no idea what he meant by that. Before she could open her mouth to utter another question, Priest gave her some reassurance. "You know how to live. Without boundaries, regrets, worries," he clarified.

Britain nodded in understanding, now knowing what he meant. "And you like that?" she asked Priest.

He licked his lips once more, his eyes staring into her sexy feline-like ones. “I love it,” he confirmed with a nod of his head.

A smile stretched across Britain’s face as her heart grew warm at Priest’s endearment. Leaning over the table, Priest met her halfway for a kiss.

Priest couldn’t deny the fact that Britain made living in the gray look so enticing. She was always so happy and exuberant. Being around her was revitalizing to him, and in some odd way, he always felt like she was healing him from the awful childhood he had to endure.

Britain was his gray.