King Cobra

Clyde

"I like your place," Scott said, his eyes scanning the basic room as a smile stayed on his face.

A brown fabric couch was pushed against the wall to the right of the door, a small TV on a table in front of it. The carpet was thick and white, until it reached the tile of the kitchen to the left. It was a small house, only two bedrooms, the kitchen and living room basically the same room, but I was lucky that my friend was letting me stay with her for free until I got back on my feet.

Tucker and I had lived together for a year, dated for two before we moved in with each other. I was fully prepared to be homeless after it ended, knowing he wouldn't give up the apartment to me. But Al was a life saver, offering me a room, all I had to do was move to New Orleans.

"Thanks, it ain't really mine," I shrugged, throwing my key on the kitchen counter. "Feel free to sit I guess, I'm gonna change."

Scott just stood there, following behind me as I headed into my room. The walls were bare, the boxes that had been in the tiny uhaul now took up most of the free space in the room. I started digging through one, looking for some sort of comfy outfit, glancing back at the man behind me.

"I'm gonna change?" I raised an eyebrow, trying to hint to him to wait in the living room, but he didn't get it, instead just sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Baby, you gon' act like I didn't see all of you a couple days ago?" he chuckled, "but if it makes you feel better, I'll close my eyes."

I rolled my eyes, waiting for him to close his before pulling off my jeans in favor for a pair of black yoga shorts. I lifted off the shirt I had been wearing, deciding to just stay in the black sports bra I already had on.

"You can open your eyes now." He smiled, looking me up and down.

"Damn lil ma, you look good."

I shook my head and headed back out into the living room, knowing if I stayed near that bed any longer we would put it to use. His arrogance annoyed the fuck out of me, but something about how confident he was made me crave him.

We sat on the couch, each on our separate sides, South Park playing on the Tv to distract from the awkward silence. I don't know why I invited him in, I haven't even had an actually conversation with him.

As if he had read my mind, he reached to turn the TV down, looking over to me.

"So what's your story?"

"What?"

"Like, what's your name, where you from, how old are you, that shit."

I inwardly groaned, realizing I'd never actually given him my name. "I'm Izzy, 21, I'm from Seattle," he looked at me, obviously expecting more from me. "I moved here 'bout two weeks ago. I was about to be homeless, but Ally offered me a place to stay."

"Why were you gonna be homeless?"

"Boyfriend and I broke up, he didn't want to move, so I'm the one who had to pack up my shit."

"Damn, sounds like a bitch." I nodded in agreement. "I feel it though, it seems like all my ex hoes become my enemies in one way or another, but they still jealous as fuck."

I just nodded again, knowing that usually when a guy calls his exes crazy it's him that's the crazy one.

"But it seems like that's my type. All the girls I fuck with got kids or ex husbands, they junkies or strippers," he stumbled over his words a bit when he tried to correct himself, "but, I mean, if you fit any of those I'm not judgin'."

"So far I'm not any of the above, nor am I a girl you fuckin' with."

"You sure 'bout that baby?" He smirked, a playful glint in his blue eyes.

"Positive," but my body had to contradict me, a light blush spreading across my cheeks.

"Then why you all red baby girl?" Scott placed a finger under my chin, tilting my head up towards him. "You playin' hard to get, but daddy knows what you want."

"And what's that?" I bit my lip and smiled at him, his blue eyes locking on my green ones. The sinking in my stomach that had been warning me that something wasn't right was now replaced with a hot fluttering that spread up through my chest.

"Me."