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.

interrupts my reverie, accompanied by

my head slightly, I chuckle.

culinary skills are?” he teases,

“More like thinking about how to recreate

we continue our back and forth, and

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

the man

in my mind—about how Karl used to be this

how all

this sweet boyfriend to a more aloof

trepidation. This could all be an act. A

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

nostalgia and comfort. Just for

again, laughing and joking with the man she once

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

warm smile. “Always, Abby.

clear away the plates,

on the countertop, pulling my notepad

in my fingers, “time to

a beat, Karl starts listing off ingredients.

of that s picy olive

each item. I watch in amusement as he scuttles from

shelves, peeking into containers, and being utterly relentless in ensuring nothing’s

out.

whirlwind,” I comment,

room. “Efficiency, Abby. I learned

point, Karl comes closer, presumably to look into a nearby

I notice the sheen of sweat on

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

setting down the notepad for a

measured pace. His

a word, I reach out, wiping the sweat away with the

tonight,” I tell

us, punctuated only

Karl’s hand shoots out. His arm wraps itself

together,

want me,” he murmurs. “I

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

my mind. I know that I made a promise to myself and to my friends that I would never

looks too hot in the dim

to reveal his sinewy forearms, for me to

Before I know it, our lips are locked in an intense

soft moan echoes between us as his tongue works its way into

ways that

touched, wanted,

“Abby…”