Page 144 of The Love of Priest

"You're knocking my hustle," she scoffed with her arms folded across her chest.

"Listen, I can't do this." He gestured around the room, referring to the number of people in his home at the moment. "I commend you for hustling, but you gone have to find a different spot." He shook his head.

Jazzy glared at him before letting out a heavy sigh. "You're never here anyway."

"Doesn't matter. It's still my fucking penthouse, and I don't need people blowing it up. You’re thinking real fucking reckless, kid." Frustration leaked out of him. "Clear my shit out, Jazzlyn," he ordered once more as he headed toward his bedroom.

Priest was really strict about who came in and out of his home. His personal space and privacy were big for him, and Jazzy knew that, so he was confused about why she had the whole strip club in his spot at the moment. Priest was a huge target. He couldn't have any and every one coming through his spot. A sneaky bitch was way worse than a hating-ass nigga, and right now, he couldn't trust any of the women Jazzy had in his home.

Priest rushed the process of getting ready. He didn't want to be late returning to Britain, especially since it was a hard day for her. Once he was finished, he sprayed himself with some of his Creed cologne before leaving his bedroom. To his luck, Jazzy seemed to be wrapping up. She followed his orders and told all the ladies she was fitting that they had to leave, and they would catch up some other time.

Priest waited for the last woman to leave before having a conversation with his sister. "Look, what's mine is yours. I just need you to understand that I can't have what you just had up here," he spoke to his sister in a softer tone.

Jazzy nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna be working late again tonight. Not that you're ever home to realize," she murmured while brushing past him to go toward her bedroom.

Priest sighed while turning around to continue speaking to Jazzy. "Jazzy, I told you it wasn't the time for you to come home," he reminded her.

Jazzy rolled her eyes. "You’re right, PJ. You did, but given the circumstances, you would think you could spare at least an hour.”She didn’t even bother to hear him out. Instead, her bedroom door slammed shut, indicating that she no longer wanted to talk.

Priest was managing his time spent between Jazzy and Britain awfully. He couldn't help it, though. Britain captivated him in a whole different way that he couldn't even explain. Before Britain, Priest and Jazzy would usually spend all their time together if he wasn't working. Their bond was incredible, and they never grew tired of being around each other. Now, things had changed, and Jazzy just had to get accustomed to that.

Instead of smothering Jazzy, Priest simply left. On his way back to Britain's apartment, he shot Jazzy a text. It was an open access link to his calendar that showed all his tasks through the next two weeks.

PJ:Pick a day and a time solely for you. I ain't forget about you Jazzy-Fae. You're my bratty ass little sister.

Delivered 1:45 PM

ChapterThirty-Seven

Priest eventually arrivedat Britain's apartment. He used the spare key to enter and caught Britain in the middle of singing along to music she had blasting on her speakers. Despite the music being loud, he still managed to hear Britain's sweet voice, but he was sure she was unaware of his arrival.

Priest made his way toward her bedroom. He listened intently, enjoying her talent that he had just discovered. If Britain couldn't get any better, she could sing.

No longer able to keep himself concealed, Priest pushed the bedroom door open, catching Britain’s attention immediately. "God!" she yelled in shock as she gripped her chest. "How long were you here?"

"Long enough to find out you can fucking sing," he told her with his eyes widened in amazement.

A light laugh aired out of Britain as she waved him off. “Alright, let’s not make it a big deal.”

"A’ight, I’ll have you sing to me later. I need to hear that beautiful-ass voice again.” He smirked before resting his hands on her waist. “You look nice."

"Thank you, P. You look handsome." She puckered her lips for a kiss.

"I can slip you out of this later?" he asked with a mannish smirk embedded on his face.Britain laughed lightly as she looked down at her outfit.The ribbed black bodysuit seemed to be painted onto her body, enticing Priest.

"Be my guest," she approved, causing Priest to shake his head with some laughter.

Once Britain put on her shoes, they were ready to go. She continued to refrain from asking questions, which wasn't that hard for her to do since Priest never really answered her anyway.

Britain led the way out and Priest locked up behind them. As he reached up to place the spare key where it was usually hidden, she stopped him. "Keep it," she instructed him before quickly walking away from him and heading to the car.He stood near the door in confusion. Doing as she told him, he slipped the key into the front pocket of his Amiri jeans. Meeting her at the car, he opened the door for her before getting in himself.

"Why'd you walk away?" Priest asked her as he started the vehicle and pulled out of his usual parking space.

Britain cleared her throat out of nervousness. "I fear rejection. What if you think it's too soon?" she asked in a low and sheepish voice. At the moment she offered him her apartment key, her heart had spoken quicker than her mind.

Priest reached into his front pocket and retrieved the key. "I don't," he confirmed, causing a smile to etch Britain's face. "Things like letting me have the key wouldn't make or break anything. We could be three years in, and I still wouldn't mind getting it from the spot," he shrugged.

"Gioia, you've given me access to you mentally, emotionally and sexually. I definitely wouldn't be tripping off a key being kept too soon. We're damn near married at this point," he scoffed with a light laugh and a shake of his head.

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