Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 51: Impressed
Abby

“Alright, paperwork’s done,” Karl declares with an air of finality, piling the last of the filed sheets into a

neat stack.

The office is a maze of papers, scatt ered across the desk and floor, but we’ve managed to conquer the

monster of bureaucracy.

I chuckle, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Who knew running a restaurant came with so

much… paper?”

Karl snorts. “Did no one warn you?”

I roll my eyes dramatically. “Alright, Mr. Know-It-All. Next is ordering. Let’s head to the kitchen and see

what we need.”

He nods, and we make our way to the heart of the restaurant. The stainless steel countertops gleam

under the dim overhead lights, and I breathe in the familiar mix of spices and cooked food. There’s

something soothing about being here, even when the bustle is gone.

I grab a clipboard and start jotting down a list. “We definitely need more garlic, basil, tomatoes…”

Karl starts peeking into various containers and cupboards, joining in on the inventory. “Don’t forget the

mushrooms and parmesan.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence as we both get absorbed in our task.

Then, from a distance, the soft strumming of a guitar fills the space. It seems one of the staff has left a

radio on.

“Is that… Ed Sheeran?” Karl asks, looking up with a smile.

I nod, swaying slightly to the rhythm. “Perfect. I haven’t heard this song in a while.”

My head instinctively bobs to the music as I get back to work. But then, I feel a presence beside me. I

look up to see Karl standing beside me, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Dance with me?” he asks.

Shaking my head, I turn away slightly. “You’re ridiculous. We’ve got work to do.”

“C’mon, Abby. We haven’t danced in so long.” Before I can stop him, he reaches out, grabbing my

and twirling me

away as a heat

a mischievous laugh, Karl grabs me again, pulling me

to

feelings.

I know it, the cold, hard kitchen tiles are becoming our dance floor as the soft

us.

kitchen, Karl’s hand finds my waist, pulling me

dance against my

against the cold tiles, creating a rhythm

and warm, lock onto mine. Every turn, every twirl is executed with a

a rush of memories

between us, the weight of

familiar, comforting.

it, but… I’ve

decide to go out, drawn to the thumping

they promised. Karl had always been such a good dancer,

someone of his

confidence, a surety to them that drew

the way he led our pack—with

music; it was an unspoken language

being twirled under his arm, the heat of our

to the beat. The world outside

the rhythm that pulsed through

my reverie, almost as though reading

used to dance the night away? Every weekend, sometimes even

You’d spin me around till I

about anyone watching.”

tightening around my waist for a brief moment. “There was

a mischievous glint in his eyes, “at that club downtown. We danced for hours,

ached and our clothes were soaked

“God, yes. We

we left.”

intense. “Well,

sweat, was it?”

in mock horror, and I smack his chest, feigning indignation.

my reprimand lacks any real heat, and the flush that creeps up my

warm and infectious, and I find myself laughing

up a glare.

laughter gradually dies down, replaced by the soft hum of

now, our faces inches apart, our breaths mingling.

for a split second,

in, reminding me of the boundaries, of the lines we’ve drawn.

that I’ve drawn.

I gently pull away, breaking the magnetic pull

feel, or maybe because I want to change

fridge. “Are you