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

recent confusion between us is still

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

looks down, momentarily lost in thought. When he

I might not be a fan of surprises,

Let me

by his words but the genuineness in his

other day?”

“A bit, yeah. But

words. “…Doing something

in his voice warms my heart. “Fine, but only if you promise not to

glint with mischief, replacing the annoyance in them.

quickly and then moves to stand beside me. With deft

adding just the right amount of cocoa powder. The batter comes together beautifully,

luscious.

the next hour, it’s a blend of teamwork and

each other’s quips and focus on perfecting the

poured into a mold, and it’s slid into

flour-covered hands

grins, holding up a cupped hand full of flour. “How about

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

to my hair, eyelashes, and the tip of my nose. I stare at Karl in wide-eyed disbelief,

giving

I shriek, both shocked and amused. I look at him, my expression

betray me. “You’ll

deep,

another word, I scoop up a generous handful of flour and, with all the strength I

right

slow. The flour smacks him square in

split second, the kitchen is shrouded in silence—then both of us erupt in peals

laughter.

two becomes four, and before we know it, we’re engaged in

in every direction, settling

everywhere.

chaotic, but it’s also… freeing. As we duck, dodge,

back in time.

old shared kitchen resurface—of simpler

And then, almost always, laughter would give

intimate closeness.

as flashes of those memories—of tangled limbs and

me. I quickly turn away, the reminiscing threatening to reveal emotions

trying to

cake’s baking time is nearly up. “Okay,

hands raised in surrender.

in flour, grins.

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