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 a

head slightly, I chuckle. “Sorry. Lost in

about how wonderful my culinary skills are?”

like thinking about how

the meal, we continue our back and forth, and it’s so…

the shared glances. With every word, every gesture, Karl’s being so sweet, so genuine,

the

echo in my mind—about how Karl used to be this

and how all

sweet boyfriend to a more aloof

be an act. A way

thoughts aside. Tonight, I want to believe in

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

laughing and joking with the man she

eyes with him. “Thank you,

genuine, warm smile. “Always, Abby.

away the plates, placing

the countertop, pulling

in my fingers, “time to

Karl starts listing off ingredients. “We need rosemary,

that s picy

in amusement as he scuttles

and being utterly relentless in

out.

like a whirlwind,”

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

point, Karl comes closer, presumably to look into

sheen of sweat

long day, is touching. Maybe it softens

setting

with a slow, measured pace. His closeness sends a

out, wiping the sweat away

trooper tonight,” I

silence between us, punctuated only by our slightly uneven

shoots out. His arm wraps

breaths mix together, husky and

want me,” he murmurs.

I do want him. Ever since I had that w et drea

I made a promise

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

sleeves pushed up to reveal his sinewy forearms,

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

soft moan echoes between us as his tongue works its

in ways

wanted, loved. I haven’t felt this in

“Abby…”