“It’s Friday night.” “Yeah, it is,” I drawled, my lips twitching. “I make pasta on Friday nights,” she stated. I smirked and took a step closer to her again. She cooked? Fuck, even better. I liked to cook but there was something about a woman who knew how… “I like pasta,” I murmured. “You going to follow me home if I tell you no?” she asked, attitude lacing her voice now. I almost smiled at that. It was cute as fuck. “Yep.”
