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.

to Abby,” Karl’s voice interrupts my reverie, accompanied by

slightly, I

about how wonderful my culinary skills are?” he

thinking about how to recreate this

forth, and it’s so… effortless. The laughter,

every word, every gesture,

forget about the man he’s

the evening progresses, Chloe’s words echo in my

soul, and how all of it changed

this sweet boyfriend to a more aloof husband.

could all be an act. A way to

I just want to push those thoughts aside. Tonight, I want to believe in this

drown in this gentle current of nostalgia and comfort. Just for tonight, I wish to

and joking with

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

warm smile. “Always, Abby.

meal, I clear away the plates, placing

on the countertop, pulling my notepad

in my fingers, “time to finalize our

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

of that s picy

scribble quickly, noting down each item. I watch in amusement as he scuttles

shelves, peeking into containers, and being utterly

out.

like a whirlwind,” I comment, half

room. “Efficiency, Abby. I learned from

point, Karl comes closer, presumably to look

sheen of sweat on his

help me, especially after a long day, is touching. Maybe it

I beckon him closer, setting down

with a slow, measured pace. His

word, I reach out, wiping the sweat away with the back of my

such a trooper tonight,” I tell him softly. “Thank

only by our

His arm wraps itself around my waist, pulling me

mix together, husky and

murmurs. “I know you want

not wrong. I do want him. Ever since I had that w et drea m about him, I haven’t quite

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

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,

Before I know it, our lips are

between us as his tongue works its

ways that Adam

touched, wanted, loved.

“Abby…”