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

of the recent confusion between us is still fresh in my mind, the way that

told him

he speaks, his voice is filled with a

not be a fan of surprises, but I

not you. Let me help,

words but the genuineness in

other day?”

sighs, running a hand through his hair. “A bit,

words. “…Doing

voice warms my heart. “Fine, but only if you promise not to mess it

eyes glint with mischief, replacing the annoyance in

stand beside me. With deft hands, he helps

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

luscious.

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

at each other’s quips and

a mold, and it’s slid into the preheated oven. “Now, we

flour-covered

hand full of flour. “How about

cloud of white

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

giving way to

shocked and amused. I look at him, my expression feigned outrage, but

betray me. “You’ll pay

laughter fills the room, a deep,

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

right at

flour smacks him square in the face, rendering him ghost-like

a split second, the kitchen is shrouded in silence—then both of

laughter.

four, and before we know it, we’re

fly in every

everywhere.

madness, it’s chaotic, but it’s also… freeing. As we duck, dodge, and counter-attack, I’m

back in time.

kitchen resurface—of simpler times when

up laughing on the floor. And then, almost

intimate closeness.

flashes of those

away, the reminiscing

trying to keep

noticing that the cake’s baking time is

hands raised in surrender.

covered head to toe in flour, grins.

we’ve made. “Look at