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

as a heat creeps up into my

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

him, partially victim to his Alpha aura and partially

feelings.

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

us.

the soft chords of the song fill the kitchen, Karl’s hand finds my waist, pulling

dance against my back, guiding

against the cold tiles, creating a

eyes, intense and warm, lock onto mine. Every turn, every twirl is

rush of memories flooding

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

familiar, comforting.

admit it, but… I’ve missed

remember those nights we used to spontaneously decide

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

for someone of his stature and

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

way he led our pack—with authority

music; it was an

feeling of being twirled under his arm, the heat of our

the beat. The world outside ceased to exist; it

rhythm that

slightly teasing, breaks my reverie, almost as

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 a brief moment. “There was

that club downtown. We

our clothes were soaked in

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

we left.”

“Well, dancing wasn’t the only activity that made

sweat, was it?”

I smack his chest, feigning indignation. “Karl! You

heat, and the flush that

and I find myself

up a glare.

by the soft hum of the music and the

faces inches apart, our breaths mingling. The intensity of his gaze

split second, everything else

of the

that I’ve drawn.

pull away, breaking the magnetic pull between

suddenly notice how hungry I feel, or maybe because I

“Are you hungry?” I ask