Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Chapter 0216

“Did you mean it?” Chloe asks, her voice quieter than before. “What you said on TV today? About

everyone here?”

I reach out and take both of their hands in mine, aware of how clammy my palms are but not caring in

the slightest.

“Every single word,” I assure her, my eyes flicking between Chloe and Leah. “You both have been with

me through thick and thin. I couldn’t have asked for better friends.”

Leah’s eyes glisten, a testament to the emotional weight of our journey together. “And we couldn’t have

asked for a better friend than you, Abby. You make this place feel like home.”

“I second that,” Chloe says, squeezing my hand.

“No matter where life takes us,” I continue, “know that nothing—no cook-off, no restaurant reviews, and

definitely no drama—will ever come between us again.”

‘We’ll hold you to that,” Leah says with a playful wink.

“We don’t have to,” Chloe counters. “Because I know she means it.”

There’s a pause as the three of us blink our tears away and take another sip. Then, with a grin, Leah

leans on my shoulder.

“Man,” she says, letting out a sigh. “Maybe I should work here. I feel left out.”

Chloe chuckles. “Yeah, like you wouldn’t cry if a customer is mean to you.” Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

Leah giggles. “You’re right. I think I’m better suited in an office, tucked away from the general public.”

I’m just about to open my mouth to say something else when the music suddenly becomes almost

deafeningly loud. The three of us turn to see Anton standing by the stereo, swaying back and forth to

the music.

“Abby! Come show us how you move!” Anton shouts over the music, beckoning me toward the

makeshift dance floor between tables.

I laugh, setting down my glass. “All right, you asked for it!”

Anton grins, his eyes twinkling in the dim light. “In France, we have a saying: ‘Life is a grand dance,

and we’re all just trying to keep up.’ So let’s dance!”

“I’ll do my best!” I promise, stepping into the open space.

We both get into it, the spirit of the night giving permission for unfiltered joy. Anton kicks up a leg and

then twirls dramatically, his chef’s apron swinging around him like a matador’s cape. I mimic him,

throwing in a few silly moves of my own—a mix of the robot and some awkward moonwalking.

“Oh my god, what is that?” Leah asks, doubled over with laughter as she captures the whole thing on

her phone.

“It’s the ‘Abby Shuffle,’ patent pending!” I shout over the music. Chloe is laughing so hard she nearly

spills her drink.

Anton and I finish off with a mock bow and curtsy, soaking in the applause and laughter from our

friends. It’s silly, it’s fun, and it’s the kind of thing that makes life worth savoring.

But as the night wears on, my eyes keep drifting to Karl. He’s across the room, talking with John, his

expressions animated and passionate. There’s something about the way he carries himself, the

seriousness that balances my spontaneity, which has always drawn me to him.

And then, as if on cue, I see him slip away, heading towards the back alley. He doesn’t look back, but

something in the way he exits the room gives me pause. It’s a kind of quiet retreat, a brief withdrawal

from the whirlwind of socializing.

The urge to follow him is too strong to resist.

I grab a bottle of wine from the bar, glancing briefly at my friends, who are too absorbed in their game

of charades to notice me slip away behind Karl. I find him a moment later outside, surrounding by the

streetlights and the sounds of the city.

He’s leaning against the brick wall, his head tilted back. His eyes are wandering the night sky, although

the city lights block out the stars.

He looks over as I approach. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes that I can’t quite read, followed

by a softening of his gaze.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” I return. I hold up the bottle and shake it slightly. “Need some company?”