"How far are you?" I glanced up checking the streets. "Thirty minutes or so." "Perfect. I should be done by the time you walk through the door." "I still can't believe you can cook." "What does that mean? I'll have you know I'm a master in the kitchen." I hummed lightly, flagging down a taxi. "You'd make some man truly happy with your wifey traits." "Fuck you."
