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Chapter Twenty-Two

While Britain was getting ready, her phone chimed with a phone call that she answered without caring to glance at the caller ID. "Oh, you trifling bitch!" Jadey shouted from the other end of the line, causing Britain to laugh at how random her friend could be.

"Well, hello to you too, my lovely best friend." Britain smiled.

"Girl, don't dare try to butter me up," Jadey scoffed over the phone.

"Please don't be mad," Britain pouted.

"Mad?!" Jadey shouted out. "You think I'm mad, sis? You must be out of your mind if you think I'm just mad! Britain, you missed out on helping me pick out my dress, the colors, the flowers, everything!" Jadey screeched like the spoiled brat she was.

Britain let out a light groan as she turned on her curling iron. "Jadey, you're having two weddings. I was all hands on deck for the first one. The second one, I told you, I wanted you to learn how to do things without me and actually include Kaymen," Britain explained to her. Jadey had stressed Britain out as if it were her wedding the first time around. Britain knew she would be in for much more of a headache dealing with not only Jadey this time, but also her impossible to impress mother.

Jadey smacked her lips. "Well, you kinda left me with no other choice since you left me high and dry." She rolled her eyes. "Just make sure you make it to all the rehearsals and the fitting for your stupid-ass maid of honor dress. You're so lucky I seen that you were actually busy front-paging The Times ."

Britain laughed. She knew Jadey wouldn't be too upset with her. She was just upset because Britain wasn't spending as much attention on her as she usually would. "See? I was being productive."

"So, who you fucked to get your name in that byline?" Jadey teased, causing a hysterical and hearty laugh to erupt out of them both.

Britain wanted to be funny and spill the details about the way God worked in fascinating ways, since she was sleeping with Priest and writing front page stories about him, but she knew better. "Screw you, bitch," Britain laughed. "I didn't have to fuck anyone."

"So, no one has blown the cobwebs off ya pussy, Britain?! So, you wasted all that time away just to not get ya pussy the attention she deserves?!" Jadey questioned Britain in distress.

Britain laughed her off. She was just going to let Jadey be dramatic about it like she always was. "Leave my pussy out of this, please and thank you."

Jadey shrugged. "I'm just saying. Whenever you're ready to tickle some pickle, my brother is still single." Jadey laughed as she heard Britain fake gag.

"Goodbye, Jadey," Britain initiated the ending of the phone call.Still in laughter, Jadey said goodbye to Britain before the call ended. As Britain lifted the curling wand from the counter to start curling her hair, she shook her head at the thought of her crazy best friend.

Britain was still getting ready when Priest managed to return and claim a comfortable seat on her couch while laughing obnoxiously at whatever he was watching on the TV. It only took Britain another hour before she was completely finished. Britain's heels sounded off with each step, alerting Priest to pull his attention away from the television because she was ready to go.

Slowly, he ran his tongue over his lips as his eyes gawked at her. The curls she took her time with flowed beautifully to her shoulders in a short look. The way the bodysuit she slipped on conformed perfectly to her slim waist and curvy hips had Priest ready to bend her over and fill her with all his glory. The classy white and black tartan pattern contrasted against her umber skin beautifully. Priest couldn't help but to lust for her at the slight peak of her chest she allowed by not buttoning the bodysuit up all the way. Her white heeled ankle boots paired perfectly with her miniature handbag, completing the look.

"You're trouble, Ms. Demings." He smirked as he mocked her from his grand entrance of his trial. Britain felt herself grow warm, and butterflies accumulated in the pit of her stomach. She let out a little schoolgirl laugh, flustered by the compliment he had just given her.

Standing up to his full height, he towered over her as he leaned in. He pecked her lips lightly so he wouldn't ruin her make up. "You look handsome as always," Britain complimented him while she cupped his face in her hands.

Priest had gone home and switched up his attire. He was much more casual in his retro football jersey and his designer jeans. His feet were adorned in the latest Jordan's, causing Britain to slightly envy him since even she hadn’t gotten to snag a pair upon their release. His jewelry was, of course, eye-catching, emphasized by the many diamonds that flooded the pieces on his neck and wrist. "‘Preciate it,Gioia."

Together, they walked out of the home hand in hand. Britain had convinced Priest to allow her to drive since it was her adventure. As she trekked from the building, Priest couldn't help but to admire her. She was just so effortless in everything she did. She noticed him admiring her while she gently pushed some of her hair out of her face.

Priest licked his lips once more, causing Britain to let out a little laugh. "Stop undressing me with your eyes."

Priest chuckled before nodding his head. He assisted her into the driver's seat of his Bentley Bentayga truck. Out of all the vehicles he owned, Britain had to say this one was her favorite. The red interior always had her in awe as it contrasted with the all-black exterior and darkly tinted windows.

"Don't be on that road rage shit while I'm in the car," Priest jested.

Britain shot him a stale face since he knew her road rage was something she couldn't control.

As she drove, Priest simply gazed at her while she sang along to the songs that played from her phone. It amazed him how she could so easily have the time of her life, not once letting what she had just told him cloud her mind.

Priest laughed at hype she got once her playlist shuffled to Pop Smoke's song “Dior.”

"Yo, pay attention to the road," Priest told her while he was still in laughter.

"Oh, relax." She waved him off as if he were being uptight. "I'm a safe driver."

"Fuck you get your license from, a back alley?" Priest asked as she jumped a curb while taking a sharp turn.

Britain couldn't help but laugh at the frightened expression on his face. The two were neck in neck with how reckless they drove, but let Priest tell it, Britain was far more careless. "No need to whine anymore. We made it here safe," she joked as she successfully parallel parked between two cars.

"Son, I’m never letting you drive again." Priest shook his head as he got out the car and made his way around so he could assist Britain out.

It was nighttime, and the streetlights and the lights of the surrounding businesses decorated the streets as people littered the area enjoying their time together. It was evident that this was some type of party district just by the strong smell of alcohol that stung Britain's and Priest's noses. Laughter and great conversation flowed amongst the groups of friends and couples as they enjoyed their night along the busy street.

Britain held onto Priest's hand as she looked up at him. Even in heels, the height difference was still a significant one. "Relax," she urged him as she noticed his eyes darting in every direction he heard a voice or any kind of movement being made. He was assessing the area to ensure that not only was he safe, but Britain as well.

Priest said nothing in response. It was evident that he wasn't about to loosen up, especially in a place he was unfamiliar with. Before Britain led the way to their destination on foot, she wrapped her hands around Priest's waist, letting out a sigh and shaking her head at the feeling of his piece strapped in his waistband. "Really?" she asked him as she always did.

Priest smirked. "C'mon, this ain't nothing new."

Britain decided not to give him grief about it. He reclaimed her hand in his as they began making their way down the street. Britain led him to a set of steps that travelled down to a heavy steel black door. The sign that illuminated in neon yellow light read, SIX:00 AM .

"What is this place?" Priest asked Britain as he pulled the door open so they both could enter.

Britain looked over her shoulders at him with an excited smile. "It's a little bit of everything. It has great food, great drinks, poetry, good music, table games, hookah, and best of all—it closes at six in the morning," she explained to him.

Glancing around, they both noticed how packed SIX:00 AM was. The place was pretty spacious, with a bar and a small stage, along with a good number of dining tables and booths. In the center of the room, there was a dance floor for the club’s patrons to let loose. Britain liked to consider SIX:00 AM an interactive club in a sense.

"You like?" Britain motioned her hands in a presenting manner.

Priest took another look around as he nodded his head, satisfied with the spot. Priest followed behind Britain as she spoke to the hostess who appointed them a section. Britain and Jadey frequented the spot often, so they had small perks here and there. Once they were appointed their seats, Britain gave Priest a quick rundown of how things operated. It was cute to see her in the element of excitement as she introduced Priest to everything the spot offered.

As they waited for their order of wings and fries, Priest and Britain played Uno against each other, all the while listening to the music, which was occasionally interrupted by poets who took the stage.Priest laughed as Britain cheered herself on after finally winning a round of Uno. "Don't be a hater, Reverend ." She stuck her tongue out to him.

Priest shook his head, still laughing. "Alright, I'll give you that one, London ," he retorted kiddingly. They decided to take a break from the Uno game to listen to the few poets that took the stage. Britain marveled at the sight of Priest as he became captivated by the soothing words of the woman who grasped the attention of the audience. Her words graced out with so much conviction and power as she delivered her message of underlying hatred in the world for people of color.

Priest felt as though she was speaking directly to him. She addressed the misfortunes he had to endure. The discrimination for being a colored man. The oppression he felt whenever he was judged for his looks. The poet spoke volumes.

As the poet flipped her long locs over her shoulder, she thanked the audience for the love they showed her. "That was beautiful," Britain complimented.

"It was," he agreed.

Another poet took the stage. The full-figured woman had a striking umber skin tone that glistened against the gold jewelry she wore. Her thick and curly mane was pulled up into a high ponytail that was wrapped in a tribal scarf. Her bare face was inviting as her lips shined with a nice layer of lip gloss. She smiled as the frequent patrons of SIX:00 AM gave her a full round of applause before she could even say a word into the mic. Ivy was her pen name, and Britain had received the honor of hearing her present her work a few times when she came with Jadey.

Ivy was definitely a crowd favorite. "She must be popular around here?" Priest asked, causing Britain to nod in response.

"She performs here often. Her work is great," Britain enlightened Priest.

As the music simmered down and the lights grew dim, the spotlight focused on Ivy as she stood at the front of the stage. She was still sporting her beautiful smile. "Thank you, thank you," she said to the audience as the clapping began to cease. "It's an honor to be here tonight. I'm gonna be taking a different approach. I'm actually here to welcome a very inspiring young woman to the stage who has done an amazing job bringing light to our community with her “Humans of New York” columns in The New York Times . Without further ado, put your hands together to welcomeGioiato the stage," Ivy announced as claps filled the room.

Priest was definitely confused and shocked to see Britain rising from her seat. Tonight, the last thing he expected was for Britain to take the stage. He hardly even knew she enjoyed poetry.Leaning back in his seat with a smirk at Britain’s well-played surprise, his dark eyes followed her enticing body to the stage. Shockingly, she wasn't nervous. She seemed at peace and open.

Now on the stage, Britain set her eyes on everyone in the audience. An urge surged within her for her feline-like orbs to gravitate straight over to Priest. As low key as he was, he still managed to stick out like a sore thumb to her. Maybe it was because the energy they shared caused him to radiate.

"Thank you. I truly appreciate it," Britain thanked everyone for the welcome. "I first want to set the record straight. I am no poet, but I found this beautiful poem that resonated with my current situation, and I just thought I should share it with you guys,” she issued her disclaimer as her eyes seared directly into Priest's.

A small smile stretched across his face as he shot her an encouraging wink. "This poem is called “A Guide to Loving a Black Man” by an underground poet called ASimplePoet," Britain announced as the lights grew dim and the music lowered to a faint hum.

" The first thing you must understand ,

There is no easy way to love a black man.

You've got to take time to figure him out,

And study and digest what he's really about

Knowing he's someone you can't live without.

Then pour on the kindness

Shower him with sweetness,

Never letting him take your kindness for weakness.

For he's desires strength with a touch of gentleness.

He has a tough time giving his all to you,

So be appreciative of the little things he tries to do.

Let him know he can trust and confide in you,

And in return he won't have to hide things from you.

So be his supporting rock, be his friend not his foe,

When he falls, don't be so quick to say I told you so."

The words of the poem gracefully flowed out of Britain, resonating with Priest perfectly. Getting out of his seat, he gravitated to the front of the room where others were standing near the stage getting a closer view of Britain. He stood directly in front, eyeing her.

" Be understanding, not demanding.

Let him unwind, he faces a world of rain,

So try to be his ray of sunshine.

Don't get too cozy in the comfort zone.

You'll might take it all for granted and end up alone.

Keep love new, exciting and just a little bit wild.

It doesn't hurt to go that extra mile;

Finding new ways to make him smile.

Keep it sexy but devout.

Because without a doubt

He wants to be proud when he takes you out.

Don't forget about you, never let yourself go

Love yourself, and he will love you too.

Don't smother him please, just let him breathe.

The tighter you hold on, the faster he will leave.

And when you love him, love him all the way down,

Don't be afraid to explore him pound for pound.

If you don't keep it a constant thrill,

Please believe me the next chick will.

Be patient, keep it real and demand respect.

And a wonderful black king is what you will get.

Show him your pride

Stand by his side.

Let God be your guide

And love will abide."

The words of the poem left everyone in awe, and it brought some light and laughter within the room. It helped lighten the atmosphere from the heavy conversation the last poet left behind. Priest was pleased, and he couldn't help but feel as if the poem brought everything together in his head and heart.

The audience clapped and cheered for Britain as she took her exit off the stage. Priest met her at the stage exit, and she fell right into his arms. He secured his arms around her tightly, craning down and kissing her lips.

Once he pulled away, he peered down at her with a smirk plastered across his face. " I love you too, Gioia."