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

pull away as a heat creeps

With a mischievous laugh, Karl grabs me again, pulling me closer this time. I

him, partially victim to his Alpha aura and partially victim to my

feelings.

hard kitchen tiles are

us.

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

against my back,

and slide against the cold tiles, creating

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

rush of memories

come between us, the weight of Karl’s body against mine

familiar, comforting.

it, but… I’ve missed

those nights we used to spontaneously decide to go out, drawn to the thumping beats

energy they promised. Karl

for someone of his

confidence, a surety to them that drew

led our pack—with authority and finesse. Dancing with

it was an unspoken language of

of being twirled under his arm, the heat

losing ourselves to the beat. The world outside ceased to exist;

that pulsed through

voice, low and slightly teasing, breaks my reverie, almost as

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

blush, nodding. “I remember. You’d spin me around till I was dizzy, and we’d laugh like

about anyone watching.”

grip tightening around my waist for

glint in his eyes, “at that club

ached and our clothes

“God, yes. We must’ve looked a mess by

we left.”

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

sweat, was it?”

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

and the flush that creeps up my face gives me away.

my ears, warm and infectious, and I find myself laughing along, even as I try

up a glare.

dies down, replaced by the soft hum of the music and the steady beat of

closer now, our faces inches apart, our breaths mingling.

captive, and for a split second, everything

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

that I’ve drawn.

breath, I gently pull away, breaking the magnetic

suddenly notice how hungry I feel, or maybe

toward the fridge. “Are you hungry?”