Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 252

Abby

A curse slips out of my mouth as I lurch across my living room. My fingers are clumsy as I fumble with the door handle, but finally, I yank it open. The porch light filters in, revealing Karl, his figure imposing even in the darkness of the street outside.

“What are you doing here?” I’m more tired than angry, and a little too drunk for my own good, leaving my voice harsher than I really intend.

Karl’s eyes scan over me, taking in my haphazard state, before his gaze floats past me and into the equally haphazard state of my apartment. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” he asks. “I’ve been trying to call you. I’m worried.”

I lean against the doorway, partially to hide his view of the mess in my living room but also partially to steady myself. “I didn’t feel like talking tonight,” I say, hoping my tense tone conveys exactly what I want it to: that I need space.

Or do I need space, really?

But Karl doesn’t budge. Instead, he steps forward, brushing past me before I have the chance to stop him. He stands in my entryway, looking around slowly at the half-eaten takeout food, the two wine bottles, and the blooming red stain on the carpet with the discarded towel before he finally turns back to face me.

“Abby, everyone’s been trying to reach you. Don’t shut down on us.”

My eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Well, I haven’t been looking at my phone. I’ve been… busy.”

He folds his arms across his chest and frowns, a look of disappointment crossing his face. “Doing what? Watching old movies and spilling wine?” he probes, with a pointed look at the bottle on the floor.

I cross my own arms as though that will somehow protect me. “Maybe,” I snap. “And so what? It’s my house.”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he holds his phone up, which has been in his hand this whole time.

My heart feels like it stops. On the glowing screen is a mosaic of all of my friends and staff: Leah and Chloe, Daisy, Ethan, John, Anton. It’s a multiway FaceTime call that I didn’t even know was running.

“Your friends want to talk to you,” Karl says, noticing my hesitance. “Should I unmute everyone?”

I pause for a moment, caught between a sense of gratitude for my friends but also a deep sense of embarrassment. I’m standing here in my oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts, my hair is a mess, and my makeup is smudged. I’m drunk, barely standing upright, and my apartment is a disaster. Not only that, but I must look like a deer in headlights right now.

And yet, at the same time, the thought of seeing my friends—of hearing their voices—makes my heart flutter. Maybe this is what I need after what happened today. I slowly nod, meeting Karl’s gaze, and he presses the unmute button on the phone.