Barrett
"How do you want your steak cooked?" I ask as I stand at the grill.
"Medium well, does that make me awful?" She laughs as she sits on the outdoor couch, drinking a beer. "Most people want theirs rare."
She's cute as she stretches her legs out, before kicking her flip flops off. I never see her relax, so this is good for my soul. “I like mine medium rare. I definitely want it to be cooked, but I don't want it cooked too much." I laugh, waiting for the grill to heat up.
"I think that's why I do baking. At least I know it's cooked. I don't have to worry about feeling like I eat people."
"You wanna know what I think?" I question, glancing back at her.
"Definitely. What do you think you know about me?"