Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Chapter 0176

Karl’s eyes narrow. “Are you serious, Abby? We don’t even know this guy.”

“I know. And I promise, if anything happens, you can kick him out. But I have to do this, Karl. I just have

to.”

Karl searches my eyes, and I can see him wrestling with his judgment. He sighs, defeated by whatever

it is he sees in my expression.

“Alright, but I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Me, too,” John chimes in, although I can sense that he’s somewhat more open to the idea than Karl.

My heart feels lighter, even as the weight of what I’m doing fully sets in. I step back out into the

drizzling rain, motioning for the man to come inside.

“Come on,” I call out, offering the man another gentle smile. “You can come inside, out of the rain.”

The man looks up, his eyes widening. “Sorry?” he calls out, looking confused.

“Come inside,” I repeat. “Come out of the rain.”

He stands and slowly walks over to me. I open the door a little wider. He hesitates on the threshold, like

he’s doing something utterly forbidden. “I can come in? Are you sure about this?” he asks in his thick

French accent, his eyes meeting mine.

“Yeah, come on in,” I assure him, stepping aside to make room. He walks in cautiously, eyes darting

around the kitchen like a bird sizing up unfamiliar terrain.

I guide him to a stool in the corner. “Sit here. You want something else to eat? I can whip up something

fresh if you’re really hungry. And something that doesn’t taste bad.”

The corners of his mouth twitch upward, forming the shadow of a smile. “Fresh food?” he asks. “I

haven’t had anything fresh in a while now. Mostly just scraps and moldy bread for me. But you really

don’t have to go to the trouble, miss.”

My heart sinks a little. I glance at John and Karl, who are observing the interaction, a mixture of Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

wariness and curiosity on their faces. “Well, let’s change that,” I finally say. “It’s no trouble.”

Swiftly, I grab ingredients from the fridge and the pantry. My hands move on autopilot, chopping and

stirring the pasta and sauce. Within minutes, a hot dish is ready. I even pack some extra in a

tupperware, which I put it in a bag and set down beside him. “You can keep this for a couple of days.

Just don’t let it go for too long.”

“Thank you, miss,” he says softly, his eyes a little brighter. He eats quietly, his movements deliberate,

as if savoring each bite.

I turn to John and Karl, who have been watching the whole scene unfold. “So, do we want to give that

recipe another shot before we pack it in for tonight?”

John shrugs. “Sure, why not? Maybe the third time’s the charm.”

Karl, still skeptical but also maybe a little mystified, nods. “Sounds good. Let’s do it.”

However, by the time we’ve finished the dish, it’s a failure once again.

“Ugh,” I whine, throwing my fork down. “Bland. How did we manage that?”

“Hey, at least it’s edible,” John says, swallowing his bite.

Suddenly, the homeless man’s voice breaks through the silence. “You’re working with black truffles,

aren’t you?” Updated at Draмаnоvеls.cоm

“Um, yes, we are,” I answer carefully, my gaze darting between the man, Karl, and John.