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

certainly never brought

we were together.”

to make them all the time when I was

he confesses,

one up?”

of me. “Sure. I’d love

skillfully separating the egg yolks from the whites, stirring the flour and butter,

amazement; the man has

time at

dings, and Karl retrieves the dish, setting it on the counter. The

top a promise of the fluffy, airy delicacy

a spoon into it and extends it

accept the spoonful, the flavors bursting in my

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

of sugar so that the two opposite flavors

the tension, the arguments, they vanish. There’s just the

the culinary

This is amazing,” I finally manage, breaking

I was glad to

I walk back to my apartment later that night, a stray thought

chef I need for the competition? He’s

though we have our moments, we also

for a fact that we could function together as a well-oiled

off the idea. No, he doesn’t have enough experience. It

as my

Right?

…

steaming cup

boss lady. How are you

a grin, gratefully accepting the frothy coffee. “Had a successful

night.”

I take a seat on one of the stools, her own coffee in

“How so?”

shrug and take a sip. “I was struggling with a souffle recipe. But you’re

help. It’s crazy. He’s actually a master

thought?”

face tightens. “Karl

“Yes, why?”

Abby. I thought I was doing you

doesn’t listen.”

blink, surprised and a little annoyed. “You told him

was moping about how you decided

just pis

head reel. While I understand

maybe it’s because I only just told her that I