Page 181 of The Love of Priest

Not knowing a thing about bowling, the two created their own rules for the game and their own point system. Priest, who practically excelled in everything he did, got the hang of getting all the pins down a lot sooner than Britain did.

"Gutter!" Priest exclaimed, teasing Britain as a distraction while she rolled her ball.

Just like he anticipated, her ball rolled straight into the gutter. Narrowing her eyes, she turned on her heels, glaring at him. "You have very poor sportsmanship," she scolded him in a jesting manner.

He laughed as he rose from his seat to take his turn. "We're not on the same team, airhead." He sent a heavy smack to her rear, causing Britain to flick her middle finger up at him.

"We can take it to the bathroom if you down," he let out the raunchy remark, referencing the finger she had just shot at him.

Britain couldn't help but laugh at his silliness. After losing to Priest twice, she called it quits and resorted to sitting down with comfort food to recover from the back-to-back losses she had taken. "I fuck with this bowling shit. I'm really good at it," Priest laughed.

Britain rolled her eyes as she balled up a clean napkin and threw it at him. "Shut up. Jokes on you, though. You just played for my pussy. I was gonna give it to you anyway." She stuck her tongue out at him childishly.

Once they settled down from their own amusement, they conversed while eating their food. "How you like the stay at my spot?" Priest asked her.

A light smile etched her face. "I like it. I was worried about the chef, the cleaning lady, security and it being so big, but everyone is so welcoming, and they make it feel very homey." Britain really enjoyed being at Priest's place more than she thought she would. No one made her feel out of place, and everyone treated her like she belonged, almost as if she'd always been there.

A faint smile made its way onto his lips. "I'm glad you like it. Now I can lock you in with security and clear you up some closet space," he hinted with a raised brow, waiting for her to agree.

Chuckling, Britain nodded her head. "It'sourcloset now." She met him halfway for a high five.

"I appreciate you kicking it with Jazzy, too. She doesn't get along with too many females. They always envious of her and shit. You know how that go." Priest shook his head.

Britain nodded. She had a fair share of envious girls in her day, and it was honestly the most annoying thing ever, especially when she was nothing but genuine and real. "Definitely. She's a nice girl. I really enjoy talking to her. She loves you a lot, P."

"That's what she say?"

"Yeah. She also told me how she thinks she robbed you of a childhood since you've always had to take care of her." Britain curled her bottom lip into a pout, sympathizing with him and Jazzy.

A sigh drifted out of him. "Yeah, that's always been a conversation with us. That's why she goes so hard to make me proud. I tell her all the time that if I had a choice to do things differently, I wouldn't change a thing. My happiest moments were while I was raising her. I invested so much of myself into her that she really can't do no wrong in my eyes," Priest expressed with deep conviction. Jazzy was his biggest accomplishment. He raised her to be everything he wasn't, her father wasn't, and their mother wasn't. Priest couldn't be any prouder of her.

Britain couldn't contain the smile on her face. Priest was just so full of love and good energy. "You're a real gem. Y'know that?"

Priest licked his lips before chuckling lightly. "Thank you. For everything. Especially for hanging in there with Jazzy's complicated ass. She's special to me." Britain basked in his gratitude before assuring him that it was no issue to her.

ChapterForty-Five

SAPPHIRENIGHTCLUB

HARLEM, NEW YORK

Although the strip club typically filled up wall to wall late night, it was critical for the girls to get in earlier. They had to look like money, and most of all, feel like money, which usually called for them to take shot after shot, or for some of the reckless bitches, line after line.

The same scene was beginning to feel old to Jazzy. That was the same reason she left Paris. Jazzy grew tired of things fairly quickly. She was always on to the next thing after she got all she could get from it. The only thing that really stuck with her was fashion, but even that had to have many aspects that kept her on her toes. Fashion would forever be interchanging, and it would always be open to new and exciting things, and that was why it was her niche.

"Why you look like somebody fucked your man?" Jazzy's best friend, Taylor, screwed up her face as her eyes scanned Jazzy up and down.

Jazzy's mean mug, which was a lot tougher than usual, softened before she cracked a laugh with Taylor. "Girl, I'm tired. I been here all day." Jazzy smacked her lips as she folded her arms across her chest.

"You gonna stop coming?" Taylor raised her brow at Jazzy.

Jazzy scoffed. "No, I still got a couple thousand to make off you bitches."

Taylor laughed. "Exactly, so stop complaining.”

"I'm not complaining, just tired," Jazzy corrected her as she unfolded her arms from over her chest to grab the nylon bag she carried the pieces for the ladies in.

Taylor sashayed over toward the mini fridge that sat in the left corner of the locker room. She opened it up, retrieving a Red Bull from one of the shelves. "You know you don't have to do this, right?" Taylor reminded Jazzy as she walked the energy drink over to her.

---