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

twirling me

a heat creeps up into my

a mischievous laugh, Karl grabs me again, pulling me

but to sway along with him, partially victim to his Alpha aura and partially

feelings.

cold, hard kitchen tiles are

us.

fill the kitchen, Karl’s hand finds my waist, pulling me in closer. There’s

as his fingers dance against my back, guiding our movements. Our feet,

cold tiles,

Every turn, every twirl is executed with a fluid

rush of memories flooding

has come between us, the weight of Karl’s body

familiar, comforting.

won’t admit it,

spontaneously decide

they promised. Karl had

someone of

to them that drew me in. The

our pack—with authority and finesse. Dancing with

music; it was an unspoken language of passion, understanding, and

twirled under his arm, the heat of our bodies

ourselves to the beat. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of

that pulsed through

and slightly teasing, breaks my reverie, almost as though reading

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

“I remember. You’d spin me around till I was dizzy,

about anyone watching.”

around my waist for a brief moment. “There was that one

in his eyes, “at that

ached and our

“God, yes. We must’ve looked a

we left.”

gaze becoming more intense. “Well, dancing wasn’t the only

sweat, was it?”

smack his chest, feigning indignation.

the flush that creeps up my

infectious, and I find myself laughing along, even as I try

up a glare.

replaced by the soft hum of the music and the steady

our faces inches apart, our breaths mingling. The

and for a split second, everything else fades

crashes back in, reminding me of the boundaries, of the

that I’ve drawn.

breath, I gently pull away, breaking the magnetic pull between

I suddenly notice how hungry I feel, or maybe because I want

“Are you hungry?” I ask