Page 115 of The Love of Priest

"Me and Cyro had an hour-long staring contest. He beat me every time," Britain announced to him once she heard the door shut.

Priest chuckled as he stripped himself of his jacket and stepped out of his sneakers. "Word?"

She looked over her shoulder at him while nodding. "Too bad he's gone now," she sighed in a playful manner.

He made his way over to her, taking a seat next to her. "You're funny. You know that?"

She shrugged her shoulders with a light smile. "Cyro doesn't think so. I didn't get him to crack a laugh not once," she groaned in defeat.

Priest laughed, aware that Cyro was a tough cookie to crack. His main priority was to keep everyone safe. He didn't find time to laugh or even get to know anyone. "What's up with Cyro?" Priest asked Britain.

Britain shrugged once more. "I don't know. I just never had a security guard before."

"You're not fucking with it?" he asked, aware that not everyone liked the thought of constantly being supervised and watched. Kaymen hated it. He would’ve rather taken his chances than have security. Hence the fact that he never showed up to any of Priest's trial dates. He just couldn't deal with the security detail and the constant cameras.

Britain let out a light breath. "I wouldn't say that, but it definitely takes a lot of getting used to," she explained. "For some reason, I still feel like he's still here." She took another quick glance through the blinds to make sure Cyro was officially gone.

Priest laughed, taking ahold of her wrist to prevent her from peeking through the blinds. "He's gone," he assures her.

More at ease now that Priest had returned to her presence, Britain rested her head on his chest. "What happened?" she asked, her voice light and faint.

Priest released a deep sigh. "It was nothing. I got it covered," he assured her in hopes she would let the conversation go.

"I know that," she persisted. "I asked what happened."

Priest’s eyes trailed down to her only to be met with her orbs searing into him, awaiting an answer. Figuring that Britain would be the last person to let anything go, Priest caved and decided to tell her. "One of my properties got shot up," he told her. "My cousin Nia, she worked in the leasing office and was caught in there when bullets started coming through. No one got hurt, but it's still bothering me. Her son Mirsad is just a blow up waiting to happen. I need to figure out what to do with him."

"Have you tried talking to him?" Britain asked.

Priest let out a curt chuckle. "I've also tried yelling, ignoring, and all that other shit. Nothing worked," he muttered. "I feel like the only way to get through to him is to go against him."

Britain sighed lightly before straddling his lap. Instantly, his strong hands gripped her sides while hers were planted on his chest. "I don't think he can handle you going against him, P." She leaned in slowly before pecking his soft lips.

Priest's right hand maneuvered from her side to the crook of her neck. As she pulled away, he pulled her closer to continue the kiss. "I'll take his pride away," Priest suggested out loud in the midst of their kiss.

"He's a kid, Priest. He shouldn't have that much pride," she reminded him.

Gazing into her eyes as she peered down at him, he licked his lips full of lust. "He has just enough for me to play him out. I'm done harping on him, though," he dismissed the conversation.

Britain nodded her head. "I appreciate you always making sure I'm safe," she expressed her gratitude.

"Always." Priest caressed her bottom lip with his thumb gently. "I promise to take care of you."

"I love you." Britain cupped her soft and tender hands around his face as she gazed at him adoringly.

"I love you too," he professed as a light smile formed on his lips. "I'll always take care of you, even if all this shit gets snatched away from me.” His light smile upgraded into a much more open and beaming one.

Britain smiled before pecking his lips gently. "I guess chivalry isn't dead," she teased.

Priest shook his head. "It's not," he assured. "Don't settle for nothing less than what I'm doing now, and never let me get too comfortable," he preached to her. His words stuck with her. Britain had a problem with becoming too invested in a relationship because she was being granted attention. She lowered her standards much more than she ever should’ve, and she accepted far too much. Priest could tell just by the stories she told him about her past relations with her ex.

He eyed Britain as she brushed her thumb against his tattoo-covered arm. She favored a few of them that she constantly traced with her finger. "Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option," Britain recited the quote by Maya Angelou that was inked into his arm right next to a small portrait of his mother. His strategic placement of the tattoos always puzzled Britain, but she never asked.

"I'll never make you feel like an option," Priest clarified to Britain once she finished reciting the quote aloud.

ChapterThirty-One

The next day,Priest kept his eyes on Britain as she pulled the bottoms of her scrubs over her rear. Their night was a peaceful one, and they slept in each other's arms until they were awakened by Britain's phone. Unlike Priest, she kept her device on at all times. Her anxiety just wouldn't allow her to do otherwise.

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