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

slightly, I chuckle. “Sorry. Lost in

about how wonderful my culinary skills

like thinking about how

back and forth,

gesture, Karl’s being so sweet, so genuine, that

about the man he’s

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

and how all of it changed

transformation from this sweet boyfriend to a more aloof

be an act. A

push those thoughts aside. Tonight, I want to believe

want to drown in this gentle current of nostalgia

and joking with the

table, locking eyes with him. “Thank you, Karl,”

a genuine, warm smile.

I clear away the plates, placing them in

the countertop, pulling

pen in my fingers, “time to finalize our order. Let’s hear

missing a beat, Karl starts listing off ingredients.

more of that s

item. I watch in

into containers, and being utterly relentless in

out.

like a whirlwind,” I comment,

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

Karl comes closer, presumably to look into a

notice the sheen of sweat on his

help me, especially after a long day, is

setting

slow, measured pace. His

reach out, wiping the

trooper tonight,” I tell him

momentary silence between us, punctuated only by our

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

breaths mix together, husky

murmurs. “I know

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

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

hot in the dim light of the kitchen, with

sleeves pushed up to reveal his sinewy

it, our lips are locked in an intense

spices. A soft moan echoes between us

ways that Adam never

wanted,

“Abby…”