Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 52: Too Close
Abby

Sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, the soft clinking of our utensils is a comforting lullaby against the

evening’s silence. I sneak glances at Karl every now and then, his features illuminated with a gentle

glow from the overhead light. He seems lost in his thoughts, enjoying every bite.

“This pasta turned out really well,” he murmurs, drawing my attention.

I chuckle, twirling another mouthful onto my fork. “Team effort, remember?”

Karl smiles. “Yes, but I think someone here had the magic touch, and it sure as hell wasn’t me.”

Laughing lightly, I shake my head. “You flatter too much, Mr. Know-It-All.”

As I twirl the spaghetti around my fork, Karl’s gaze meets mine, a hint of mirth in his eyes. “You know,”

he begins, pausing for effect, “I never thought I’d see the day where you’re more engrossed in your

food than in giving orders.”

I feign shock, clutching my chest. “Mr. Karl, are you insinuating that I’m bossy?”

His laughter fills the room, its rich timbre a comforting note in the ambiance of our intimate dinner.

“Never, Miss Abby. Simply observing,” he winks.

Giggling, I take a playful swipe at him with my napkin. We continue this light banter, laughing over silly

anecdotes and shared memories. With each passing minute, my guard slips a little further.

I hate myself for it, for being so easily lulled into this contentment. For being so comfortable and at

peace in Karl’s presence.

As I reach for my glass of water, my fingers brush against his.

I can’t help but notice the warmth of his touch, and how his skin feels against mine—strong yet gentle.

In the dim light of the kitchen, he looks… captivating. The way the soft glow accentuates the rugged

contours of his face, the spark in his eyes, and that boyish charm that lurks just beneath his often stern

exterior—it’s all disarmingly handsome.

I can’t deny it any longer, how easy it is to get lost in the moment with him. To forget about our

differences, about the hurt of the past, and simply revel in the now. The pull is magnetic, almost primal,

and it scares me just how much I’m drawn to him.

Karl’s voice interrupts my reverie,

I chuckle. “Sorry. Lost in

how wonderful my culinary skills are?” he teases, raising

reply, “More like thinking about how to

back and forth, and

word, every gesture, Karl’s being so sweet,

the man

in my mind—about how Karl used

and loving soul, and how all of it

transformation from this sweet boyfriend to a more aloof husband. The haunting thought

be an act. A way to get

thoughts aside. Tonight, I want to

current of nostalgia and

and joking with the

across the table, locking eyes with him. “Thank you, Karl,” I say softly, “for

smiles, a genuine, warm smile. “Always,

I clear away the plates, placing them in

on the countertop, pulling my notepad

twirling the pen in my fingers, “time to

starts listing off ingredients. “We need rosemary, thyme,

more of that s picy

watch in amusement as he scuttles from one corner to

into containers, and being utterly relentless in ensuring

out.

a whirlwind,”

winks at me from across the room. “Efficiency,

point, Karl comes closer,

sheen of sweat

especially after a long day, is touching.

closer, setting down the

approaching with a slow, measured pace. His closeness sends a tiny jolt

out, wiping the sweat away with the back of

been such a trooper tonight,”

punctuated only by our slightly uneven

His arm wraps itself around my waist, pulling me

mix together,

he murmurs. “I know

had that w et drea m about him, I haven’t quite gotten those

of my mind. I know that I made a promise to myself and to my friends that

him, I can’t help it. He looks too hot in the dim light of the kitchen, with a sheen

sleeves pushed up to reveal his sinewy forearms, for me to push

us has to speak. Before I know it, our lips are locked in

wine and spices. A soft moan echoes between us

in ways

be touched, wanted, loved. I haven’t felt this in

“Abby…”