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.

Karl’s voice interrupts

I chuckle. “Sorry.

culinary skills are?”

thinking about how

and forth,

word, every gesture, Karl’s being so

the man he’s

as the evening progresses, Chloe’s words echo in my

and loving soul, and how all of it changed after

sweet boyfriend to a more aloof husband.

could all be an act. A way to

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

drown in this gentle current of nostalgia

girl again, laughing and joking with the man

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

a genuine, warm smile.

meal, I clear away the plates, placing them in

the countertop, pulling my notepad

twirling the pen in my fingers, “time to finalize

beat, Karl starts listing off ingredients. “We need rosemary, thyme,

tomatoes… more of that s

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

checking shelves, peeking into containers, and being utterly relentless in ensuring

out.

a whirlwind,” I comment,

winks at me from across the room. “Efficiency, Abby. I

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

notice the sheen of sweat on

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

him closer, setting down the notepad for a

slow, measured pace. His closeness sends a tiny jolt of

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

tonight,” I tell him softly.

momentary silence between us, punctuated only by our slightly

Karl’s hand shoots out. His arm wraps itself around my waist,

mix together, husky

he murmurs. “I know

since I had that w

a promise to myself and to my friends

He looks too hot in the dim light of the kitchen, with a sheen of sweat on

sleeves pushed up to reveal his

us has to speak. Before I know it, our

soft moan echoes between us as his tongue works

me in ways that Adam never

this. To be touched, wanted,

“Abby…”