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

together, and he certainly never brought

we were together.”

mom used to make them all the time when I was little. It was my favorite

to make the best souffles ever,” he confesses,

one up?”

better of me. “Sure. I’d love to see you

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

in with care. I watch in amazement; the man has finesse,

at the souffle

it on the counter.

of

into it and extends

in my mouth—cheesy, eggy, and utterly perfect.

gives the souffle a savory ta ng,

sugar so that the two opposite

for a moment, all the tension, the arguments, they vanish. There’s just

culinary creation between

Karl. This is amazing,” I finally manage, breaking the spell and turning

was nothing. I

to my apartment later that night, a stray thought

be the sous chef I need for the

kitchen. And, even though we have our moments, we also

for a fact that we could function together

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

him as my sous

Right?

…

Chloe greets me with a steaming cup of coffee as I

lady. How are you

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

night.”

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

“How so?”

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

up and offered to help. It’s crazy. He’s actually a master at making souffles.

thought?”

face tightens.

“Yes, why?”

stay away from you, Abby. I thought I

doesn’t listen.”

and a little annoyed. “You

about how you decided to

just pis s

reel. While I understand the sentiment behind them, something about

just told her that