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.

voice interrupts my reverie, accompanied by

my head slightly, I chuckle. “Sorry. Lost in

how wonderful my culinary skills are?” he teases,

“More like thinking about how to recreate this

the meal, we continue our back and forth,

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

the

as the evening progresses, Chloe’s words echo in my mind—about how Karl

loving soul, and how all of it changed after the

sweet boyfriend to a more aloof husband. The haunting

This could all be an

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

gentle current of nostalgia and comfort. Just for tonight, I wish

and joking with

across the table, locking eyes with him. “Thank

genuine, warm smile.

the plates, placing them in the dishwasher.

countertop,

my fingers, “time to finalize our

starts listing off ingredients. “We need rosemary,

of that s picy olive

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

shelves, peeking into containers, and being

out.

a whirlwind,” I

the room. “Efficiency, Abby. I

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

the sheen

a long day,

setting down

a slow, measured pace. His

Without a word, I reach out, wiping the sweat away with the back

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

punctuated only by

stop him, Karl’s hand shoots out. His arm wraps itself around

together, husky

me,” he murmurs. “I

do want him. Ever since I had that

promise to

the dim light of the kitchen, with a sheen of

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

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

spices. A soft moan echoes between us as his

in ways

this. To be touched, wanted,

“Abby…”