Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 70: Soufflés and Heartaches
Abby

“Let me help you.”

Karl’s words hit me like a ton of bricks. Karl, of all people, wants to help me prepare for the competition

that we were only just arguing about? I can’t believe it.

“You’re joking,” I murmur.

Karl shakes his head, his eyes darting down to the failure of a souffle sitting between us. “Nope. Not

joking. Do you want my help or not?”

Part of me wants to accept his offer, but another part of me, perhaps the more logical part, decides that

maybe it’s not the best idea. I’m angry right now over my argument with Karl and this da mned souffle,

and I know that I wouldn’t exactly be the best kitchen partner tonight.

“I’m fine, Karl. Just a little tired,” I reply, forcing a smile. “Besides, you’ve been working all day. You can

head home.”

“I don’t want to go home,” he says quietly, sliding the souffle back toward me from across the cold

metallic counter. “I’m not tired, and home is boring. Let me help.”

I pause. I know that I should push him away and keep working on my own, not only so I can focus fully

on my preparations for the competition but also so we can both cool off after our arguments. But

something stops me. Maybe it’s the sincere look in his soft brown eyes.

“Sure,” I finally mutter, nodding. “I guess I could use some help.”

Karl doesn’t need to be told twice. I watch for a moment as he slips off his jacket, revealing his sinewy

biceps peeking out from beneath his short sleeves. I have to look away before I get too attached to his

image, and refocus my attention on my fourth attempt at making a souffle while he washes his hands.

Before I know it, the eggs and other ingredients are laid out before me, my whisk deftly beating the

eggs into a golden mixture.

“You know, I used to make souffles as a kid,” Karl says out of nowhere.

“You made souffles?” I can’t even begin to keep the surprise out of my voice. Karl rarely ever cooked

and he certainly never brought it up to me. “You never

we were together.”

the time when I was little. It was my favorite dessert.

best souffles ever,” he confesses, almost shyly. “Would you like

one up?”

gets the better of me. “Sure.

work, skillfully separating the egg yolks from the whites, stirring the

in with care. I watch in amazement; the man has finesse, and it’s clear

first time at the

dings, and Karl retrieves the dish, setting it on

a promise of the

it and extends it

flavors bursting in my mouth—cheesy, eggy, and

Reggiano cheese gives the souffle a savory ta ng, but Karl incorporated just the

two opposite flavors

a moment, all the tension, the arguments, they

the culinary creation between

finally

I was glad

to my apartment later that night,

I need for the competition? He’s

though we have our moments,

function together as a well-oiled

doesn’t have enough experience. It

as my sous

Right?

…

greets me with a steaming cup of coffee as I walk into

How are you

accepting the frothy

night.”

a seat

“How so?”

“I was struggling with a souffle recipe. But you’re not gonna believe this;

crazy. He’s actually a master at making souffles. Who

thought?”

tightens.

“Yes, why?”

him to stay away from you, Abby. I thought I was doing you

doesn’t listen.”

little annoyed. “You told him

was moping about how you decided to go through with

should just

reel. While I

I only just told her that I needed to be trusted