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

my head slightly, I chuckle. “Sorry. Lost

skills are?” he teases, raising an

thinking about how to recreate this

we continue our back and forth, and it’s so… effortless. The laughter, the

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

the man he’s

echo in my mind—about how Karl used to

soul, and how all of it changed

to a more aloof

in trepidation. This could all be

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

to drown in this gentle current of nostalgia and comfort. Just for tonight,

again, laughing and joking with the man

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

genuine, warm smile. “Always,

meal, I clear away the plates, placing them in the dishwasher. Jumping up,

countertop, pulling

my fingers, “time to finalize our

starts listing off ingredients. “We need rosemary, thyme, some

tomatoes… more of that

watch in amusement

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

out.

like a whirlwind,”

me from across the room. “Efficiency,

and at some point, Karl comes closer, presumably to

notice the sheen of sweat on his

me, especially after a long day, is touching. Maybe it

beckon him closer, setting down the notepad

with a slow, measured pace. His closeness sends

a word, I reach out, wiping the

tonight,” I tell

silence between us, punctuated only by

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

mix together, husky and

he murmurs. “I know

not wrong. I do want him. Ever since I had that w et drea m about him,

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

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

pushed up to reveal his sinewy

of us has to speak. Before I know it, our lips

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

me in ways that

this. To be touched, wanted, loved. I haven’t

“Abby…”