Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 55: Flour Fight
Abby

The ambiance of the restaurant after hours is one of muted stillness, a stark contrast to its bustling

daytime persona.

I absolutely cherish these moments, where the world seems to fade, and it’s just me and my culinary

creations.

Tonight, it’s not about a new dish or preparation for the next day’s service, nor is it even about the

upcoming cookoff for the Alpha party competition.

Instead, it’s personal. Chloe’s birthday is tomorrow, and there’s no way I’m going to let it slide without a

special treat. Hence, the covert operation: baking her a surprise birthday cake and finalizing our party

plans.

The ingredients lay sprawled on the counter: flour, sugar, eggs, chocolate, vanilla extract, and a myriad

of decorations. I’ve decided on a red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting—her absolute favorite.

As I start mixing the batter, a shadow unexpectedly looms over me.

Startled, I nearly drop the whisk. Turning around, I’m met with the piercing gaze of Karl. He stands

there, his arms crossed, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity evident in his brown eyes.

“Karl!” I exclaim, caught off guard. “What are you doing here? It’s late. You scared me half to death.”

He arches a brow. “Could say the same about you.”

Flustered, I reply, “I could ask you to leave since I literally own the place.”

His smirk is both infuriating and charming at the same time. “Trying to pull rank on me, Abby? Really?”

“Well, what do you want?” I sigh, not in the mood for his banter, especially given our recent encounter.

Instead of answering, he glances down at the mess on the counter, then back to me, eyes softening a

little.

“Baking a cake, huh?”

I nod, rolling my eyes. “Observant, aren’t we?”

“I can help,” he offers, surprisingly sincere.

“With the way you reacted the other day? I think I’m good, thanks,” I respond, a little sharper than

between us is

angrily since I told him that I couldn’t have sex with

lost in thought. When he

be a fan of surprises, but I can’t bear to see someone struggling

Let me

not only by his words but the genuineness in his gaze. “You’re not still mad

other day?”

his hair. “A bit, yeah. But this isn’t about that. It’s

words.

voice warms my heart. “Fine, but only if you

glint with mischief, replacing the annoyance in them. “Wouldn’t

moves to stand beside

amount of cocoa

luscious.

blend of teamwork and teasing. There’s an unexpected ease between

we laugh at each other’s quips and focus on

a mold, and it’s slid into

flour-covered hands

cupped hand full of flour. “How about a little

process what he means, a cloud of white powder is flung at me, dusting

the tip of my nose. I stare at Karl in wide-eyed

giving way

look at him, my

escaping my lips betray me.

room, a deep, infectious sound. “Bring it on,

generous handful of flour and, with all the strength I

right at

is comically slow. The flour smacks him square in the face,

shrouded in

laughter.

and before we know it, we’re engaged in an

in every direction, settling on counters,

everywhere.

also… freeing. As we duck, dodge, and counter-attack,

back in time.

resurface—of simpler times when

fights and end up laughing on the floor. And then, almost always, laughter

intimate closeness.

sudden warmth fills my cheeks as flashes of those

away, the reminiscing threatening to reveal emotions I’ve

to

the oven, noticing that the cake’s baking time is nearly up. “Okay, okay! Truce!” I

hands raised in surrender.

though covered head to toe in flour, grins. “Fine,

at the utter mess we’ve made. “Look at this! Now, who’s going