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

I

wonderful my culinary skills are?” he

reply, “More like thinking

our back and forth, and

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

forget about the

progresses, Chloe’s words echo in my mind—about how Karl used

and how all of it

boyfriend to a more aloof husband. The haunting

all be an act. A way

those thoughts aside. Tonight, I

nostalgia and comfort. Just for tonight, I wish to

and joking with the man she once loved

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

smiles, a genuine, warm

finish the meal, I clear away the plates, placing

on the countertop,

my fingers, “time

listing off ingredients. “We

of that s picy olive

down each item. I watch in amusement as he scuttles from one corner

peeking into containers, and being

out.

whirlwind,” I comment,

across the room. “Efficiency, Abby. I learned from the

list grows, and at some point, Karl comes closer, presumably to look into a nearby cabinet.

the sheen of sweat on

a long day,

setting

complies, approaching with a slow, measured pace. His closeness sends a

my spine. Without a word, I reach out, wiping the sweat away with the

a trooper tonight,” I tell him softly.

us, punctuated only by our slightly uneven breaths. But

His arm wraps itself around my waist, pulling

mix together, husky and

know you want me,” he murmurs.

do want him. Ever since I had that w et

I made a promise to myself and to my

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

to reveal his sinewy forearms,

our

wine and spices. A soft moan echoes between us as his tongue works

me in ways that Adam never

touched, wanted, loved.

“Abby…”