Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

I move toward the standing mixer, throwing ingredients in, taking care to

measure with conviction. Cooking is one thing, but making is another; there is

no room for measuring mistakes. An extra tablespoon of sugar could ruin the

whole dish.

Karl grins, his voice cutting through the tension. “Don’t forget to breathe, Abby,”

he reminds me, shooting me a wink from across the table.

I let out a breath. “I’m breathing.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, sliding the bowl of lemon zest toward me. “Everyone

knows that breathing involves keeping your chest perfectly still, your shoulders

stiff, your face red.”

Enter title…

chuckle. “Alright, fine. You’ve got

little while longer, zesting and

faster than I expected,

is, I reach for the nutmeg—only to pop

scent of cumin.

eyes narrowing. “That’s not

not.” I frantically search for the correct spice, but time

up.” I pick up another jar, pop

and inhale. But the jar, labeled ‘cinnamon’ this time, smells

my panic rising. “Paprika in the cinnamon jar?

here?”

the move, reaching into our spice cupboard up

eventually pulls out another jar labeled ‘nutmeg’ and hands it to me.

bound to be the right one. The other must

I grab the jar. A quick glance at

for spices than I would have

documenting my struggle. Stifling a curse,

the mixture and get