Page 46 of The Love of Priest

Priest let out a whistle, indicating the question was a little heavy for his liking, but he was going to tell the truth, nonetheless. "I have been. It was a few years ago, though." He shrugged. Britain nodded, satisfied with his response.

"Why'd it end?" Britain eased out another question.

Priest sighed with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. "I wasn't the best to her, and she wasn't the best to me. Someone had to go. It just so happened to be her." Priest shrugged again.

Although he had no intentions of hiding anything if it was pertinent to his situation with Britain and its growth, he still managed to speak in code about it. Britain could tell a sour taste had resurfaced in his mouth.

"Are you over her?" Britain could help but to ask.

Priest glanced in her direction momentarily before nodding his head. "I'vebeenover her. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have brought you into chaos. Not that type of guy," he explained.

Britain nodded again, satisfied with his response as well. It was evident that he had a lot of love for this woman, but Britain could tell it wasn't enough to have him backtracking to her. He seemed pained by something, but she couldn't tell what it was.

"I'm not her," Britain let out, giving clear indication that whatever the woman prior to her had done wasn't something she would do.

Priest chuckled and nodded. "And I ain't him," he clarified in the same sense, causing a little smirk to appear on Britain's face.

As the drive progressed toward the Hamptons, they finally met their hour mark, resulting in Britain being anxious to finally stop at the rest stop. Priest parked the Range Rover at a gas pump, deciding he might as well fill up the tank while he was at it. He opened Britain’s door, and she stepped out of the vehicle and thanked him. Hand in hand, they entered the rest stop. Britain slipped her hand from his. "I left my wallet in the car. Hopefully they accept Apple Pay."

Priest peered down at her. "Keep your money. This trip is for you to enjoy yourself without spending," he enlightened her.

"Hmph," Britain pouted, causing a light laugh to pool out of Priest. "I could get used to this." She nodded her head.

Priest gently put his arm around her shoulder, letting her lead him about the rest stop. She picked up every snack that caught her attention that she could carry in her arms. Once she was finished, they made their way back to the counter so the clerk could check them out. After a smooth and easy transaction, Britain and Priest exited the rest stop. He made sure to get Britain in the car before he went ahead and pumped the gas.

"You good?" Priest asked her as he started the vehicle.

Like a satisfied child, Britain nodded with a beaming smile. Exiting the premises of the rest stop, Priest and Britain set out onto the road toward the Hamptons again. "Only chicken heads eat those," Priest shamed her with a twisted look on his face as he side-eyed Britain’s choice of Flamin' Hot Cheetos.

Britain dug into the bag of chips, extracting one out and holding it up to Priest's lip. "Chill out before I crash." He chuckled as he gently pushed her hand away.

She cackled, amused by the smug look on his face. "They're not that bad. You're being dramatic." She pulled the chip back, indulging in it instead. Priest let out a light laugh as he shook his head. She couldn't lie and say she wasn't slightly bored by the drive. Priest didn't offer any music, and she for damn sure wasn't going out on a limb to turn his radio on without his consent, but that was before she was bored out of her mind, and when she wasn't being infatuated by his looks and voice. Mustering up the courage, she reached out and turned the radio on.

Priest eyed her. "Whatever you about to play better be something fire," he warned her jokingly.

"We gotta ease into the fire shit, Kanaz," she teased as she connected her phone to the Bluetooth. Taken aback by the use of his middle name, yet thoroughly impressed at the fact that she remembered it, Priest nodded his head, granting her permission to listen to anything she so pleased without cutting it off midway when he wasn't feeling it.

"Alright then, Dulce." He smirked at her. Britain cringed slightly at the sound of her middle name. As if her name wasn’t unique enough, her mother added Dulce as her middle name, causing everyone to scrunch their face up whenever they said it out loud.

"Don't call me that." She lightly hit his arm, causing a laugh to seep out of him.

Agreeing, Priest nodded. "Cool, I'll just call you Mocha. That's what your mama calls you, ain't it?"

Again, Britain ended up cringing. That was a household nickname, something only her family called her. "Can we just go back to calling me Gioia?" she groaned dramatically.

Priest smirked. He was glad she liked his personal nickname for her. "Why you like Gioia so much?" he questioned with a raised brow.

Sheepishly, Britain shrugged, not wanting to embarrass herself by sounding like she was so head over heels for him. "I like the meaning behind it, knowing I'm a joy to someone besides myself," she chuckled lightly. "Plus, it's cute, and it came from you."

Priest smiled lightly at her as he glanced at her momentarily before focusing back on the road. There wasn't much traffic since they were on the open road, but he kept focus. He had no verbal response for her, only an action. He reached over the console, gripping her thigh in an affectionate and assuring way.

"Lean your chair back," he instructed her while keeping his eyes straight ahead. Britain furrowed her brows as she gave him a look of confusion.

"What? Why?" She questioned him, pondering the purpose of reclining her seat. Priest shot her a quick glance. His look was convincing with his dark eyes that bore into her soul and his bottom lip bitten between his perfectly aligned teeth. "Priest," she whined. "Right now? Really? You're driving."

Priest nodded his head in response to her questions. "I know how to multitask. You're well aware of that," he smirked. Priest was the only man who knew how to please her body in different ways all at once. The feeling was not only overwhelming and flustering, but it was also crave-worthy.

Britain said nothing in return. Instead, she did as she was directed and reclined her seat. "Prop your legs up," he instructed her once more. Without any questions or rebuttals, Britain did as she was told and propped her legs up, opening them to emulate a graceful butterfly.

---