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Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 74

Abby

The clock on the wall reads 11:30 PM, its ticking slicing through the quietness of my office like a knife.

I’m engrossed in the sea of paperwork in front of me when there’s a knock on the door—soft but persistent. My eyes dart up, half-expecting to see Chloe or maybe Leah, but it’s Karl leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes not quite meeting mine as he studies the pile of papers on my desk. “Am I interrupting?”

His sudden appearance sets off a chorus of conflicting emotions inside me. Part of me wants to put up the barriers again, but another part is surprised and, dare I admit, pleased to see him. It’s late, and I thought that I was the only one left in the restaurant. As it turns out, I was wrong.

“No, not really,” I reply, setting aside my pen. “Just wrapping up some payroll stuff. What are you still doing here? It’s late.”

“I wanted to stay late to prep the kitchen for tomorrow.” He pauses, his eyes now finding mine. “Saw the light on under your door on my way out. Figured I’d check on you.”

The sincerity in his voice is disarming, but there’s a moment of hesitance between us, thick and almost tangible. Finally, I break the silence. “Oh. Well, I’m fine,” I say, managing a stiff smile. “Thanks.”

Karl stands there for a few moments longer. It’s clear that he’s not planning on leaving, and I sigh, setting my pen down again. Last night, he helped me with the souffle recipe again. But tonight, I have other work to do. I can’t focus 100% of my time on preparing for the cook-off.

“What is it?” I ask, glancing up at him.

He shrugs. There’s an almost mischievous look in his eyes, like there’s something that he wants to say but isn’t saying it. “Bar’s still open,” he says, glancing at his watch. “I was thinking of grabbing a drink. Wanna join me?”

Karl’s proposition takes me by surprise. All this time, I’ve tried to contain our interactions to the restaurant and the restaurant only. It’s easier that way. But then, at the same time, it is late. I’ve been staring at this spreadsheet for so long that the numbers are starting to dance on the screen in front of me. Finally, with a resolved sigh, I shut my laptop.

“Sure. We can grab a drink. But just one, you hear me?”

He smiles, a subtle lifting of the corners of his mouth that used to drive me crazy in love. “One drink,” he says. “I can live with that.”

After locking up the restaurant, we head to the bar down the street. The transition from the solitude of my office to the casual ambiance of the late-night setting feels almost surreal. This bar is known for its cozy atmosphere, creaky wooden floors and comfortable seating.

As I slide onto a stool, Karl takes the seat beside me. The bartender comes up to us and leans on the bar. I recognize him well; I’ve frequented this bar on Friday nights over the years since I bought the restaurant.

“Hey, Abby,” the bartender says, nodding politely to Karl in turn. “What can I get you two?”

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, Karl speaks up. “Two whiskeys. Neat.”

As the bartender shuffles off, I raise my eyebrow at Karl. “Always the Alpha, huh?” I tease lightly, smirking. “Couldn’t let me order my own drink?”

Karl grins. “Like you wouldn’t have ordered the same thing anyway. I know you, Abby.”

He’s right; he does know me. Too well, in fact. The bartender pours us a couple of whiskeys, and as the liquid warmth spreads through me, the lines between past and present blur a bit. I find myself wanting to lean closer to Karl, a primal instinct of our bond, but I fight against it. I made a promise to myself, and a little whiskey and some light chit-chat won’t change anything.

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