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

slightly, I chuckle. “Sorry. Lost in

skills are?” he

like thinking about how to recreate

forth, and it’s

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

forget about the

in my mind—about how Karl used

and how all of it changed

to a

in trepidation. This could all be an act. A way to get me

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

want to drown in this gentle current of nostalgia and comfort. Just

again, laughing and joking with the

with him.

a genuine, warm smile. “Always,

away the plates, placing them in the dishwasher. Jumping

the countertop,

the pen in my fingers, “time

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

tomatoes… more of that

in amusement as he

shelves, peeking into containers, and being utterly relentless in ensuring nothing’s

out.

a whirlwind,” I comment,

me from across the room.

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

the sheen of sweat on his

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

closer, setting

slow, measured pace.

a word, I reach out, wiping the sweat away with the

trooper tonight,” I tell him softly. “Thank

punctuated only by our

hand shoots out. His arm

breaths mix together,

know you want me,” he murmurs. “I know you

that w et drea m about him, I haven’t quite

promise to myself and to my friends that

looks too hot in the dim light of the

sleeves pushed up to reveal his sinewy forearms, for me

it, our lips are locked

echoes between us as his tongue works its way

ways

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

“Abby…”