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

quickly pull away as a heat creeps up into my cheeks.

it’s too late. With a mischievous laugh, Karl grabs me

partially victim to his Alpha aura and partially victim

feelings.

I know it, the cold, hard kitchen tiles are becoming our

us.

of the song fill the kitchen, Karl’s hand

against my back, guiding our movements.

slide against the cold

and warm, lock onto mine. Every turn, every twirl

of

that has come between us, the weight of

familiar, comforting.

it, but… I’ve missed

nights we used to spontaneously decide to

they promised. Karl had always been such a good

someone of

had a confidence, a surety to them that drew me in. The way he

our pack—with authority

steps or the music; it was an unspoken language

under his arm, the heat

beat. The world outside ceased to exist; it

that pulsed

breaks my reverie, almost as though reading

the night away? Every weekend, sometimes

till I

about anyone watching.”

around my waist for a

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

feet ached and our

help but giggle. “God, yes. We must’ve looked a mess

we left.”

smirks, his gaze becoming more intense. “Well,

sweat, was it?”

smack his chest, feigning indignation.

real heat, and the flush that creeps up my face gives me

in my ears, warm and infectious, and I

up a glare.

hum of the music and

now, our faces inches apart, our

and for a split second,

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

that I’ve drawn.

gently pull away, breaking the magnetic pull

I suddenly notice how hungry I feel, or maybe because

toward the fridge. “Are