She snatched it open, face bent like she was ready to cuss somebody out for the interruption, but when she saw him, she rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms across her chest.

“What you doing here? I thought you were the pizza guy,” she snapped, with an attitude, as she shifted her weight on her back foot, causing her voluptuous behind to stick out of the bottom of her tiny boy shorts as her back curved in an arch.

“You answer the door like this for the pizza guy?” he asked, territorial, as he looked her up and down. Her cut-off, green sweater barely covered the bottom of her breasts, her toned stomach was on display, and half her behind was hanging out. He could see it from the front and he was steaming. Even the sight of her pretty, white, painted toes pissed him off.

“What I do is not your concern,” she said. He walked into her place, without invitation, and she closed the door. “You made it crystal clear. So, if I want to order up dick with a side of special sauce and have it delivered to me, it’s my business.”

Messiah advanced on her, backing her up against the wall until she had nowhere to go. “Don’t make me fuck none of these college boys up out here,” he threatened. “I moved all these fucking boxes up here. I could have hired strangers to do that shit for you. I don’t even be getting my shit dirty like that,” he said, holding out his palms as he spoke. “I did it because it was you and I want to see where you rest your head, and you couldn’t give a nigga a thank you.”

“Excuse me?” she snapped. “I didn’t ask you to move anything. I would think you were too busy putting dick in my best friend to be bothered with me,” Morgan snapped.

“Man, fuck that girl! I never touched her. I said that shit, so you would come here. So you would get the fuck away from Flint and live your life, chase your dreams, shorty.” Messiah said, as his eyes appreciated her entire body, roaming her from her pretty toes to her flawless, bone straight hair and lingering on all the goodies in between. His dick jumped. “Man, go put on some clothes. A nigga come to the door with a pizza and see all that, he gon’ try and get it,” Messiah fussed, bothered by the idea of a random man seeing her body.

“You ain’t want it. Now, you don’t want nobody else to have it,” she snapped, her eyes ablaze in anger. She didn’t even know how they had started arguing over the pizza man. Messiah was crazy and jealous, but not even her man to be any of those things at all.