Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 300

Abby

As Karl and I head wordlessly back into the pub, I’m torn between relief and a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth of the crowded room envelopes us, a stark contrast to the cold intimacy of the alley. The lively chatter and laughter of the patrons are soothing to my ears, but my mind is still racing.

Karl and I don’t say a word to each other as we head down the narrow hallway, but I don’t think we need to. I can feel his presence behind me, and I know he’s watching me. He’s probably confused, just like I am.

And maybe that’s okay.

But keeping something like this from my best friend—no, not just keeping it from her, but rather lying to her completely—isn’t right. It’s not right at all, and I feel like the worst friend imaginable in my current drunken state.

I realize that keeping this secret from Chloe is just going to end up in flames, but I feel trapped. It doesn’t feel like it’s the right time to reveal what’s happening with Karl and me. Hell, maybe there never will be a ‘right’ time.

Besides, we’re just... hooking up. It could end at any moment, and I don’t want to drag Chloe into something that might just fizzle out or end in disaster. If it ends in the latter manner, I know she’ll just blame Karl, and I can’t have that. Not now.

As we rejoin our friends at the table, the familiar faces and ongoing conversations provide a temporary distraction. I try to focus on the present moment, on the stories being shared, the jokes, and the laughter.

But my thoughts keep drifting back to Karl and the alley, to Leah’s knowing look, and to the looming worry about Chloe’s reaction when she undoubtedly finds out.

To drown out my thoughts, I find myself reaching for my drink more often. One glass turns into two, and then three.

The warmth of the alcohol fills me, numbing my worries and dulling my senses. The music in the pub blends into a pleasant hum, the conversations around me become a comforting blur.

“And so I told him,” John says, his voice sounding warm and fuzzy in my current state, “Anton, if you can’t handle the heat—”

“Yes, yes, ‘get out of the kitchen’,” Anton says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And I say to that, to hell with your heat! This kitchen is ventilated!”

I’m laughing louder now, the weight of the evening’s events feeling lighter with each sip. The glasses on the table multiply, and I lose track of how much I’ve had to drink. My movements become less coordinated, my laughter a bit too loud.

“Oh, shoot,” I mutter to myself as I reach for my glass and find it empty. “Guess I gotta get another. Another round, everyone?”

My friends cheer, and many of them are probably just as drunk as I am. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself. I stand and begin to make my way over to the bar, but my shoe catches on a raised floorboard and I stumble. I manage to stay upright, but that’s almost not the case.

Karl, who has been watching me with a mix of amusement and concern, finally stands up and makes his way over to me. “Alright, Abby, I think it’s time to get you home,” he says, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Sorry, guys. You’ll have to get your own round of drinks.”

I look up at him, my vision slightly blurred. “Home? But the party’s just getting started,” I protest, my words slurring slightly.

He leans down, his hands gently grasping my arms to steady me. “You’ve had enough, Abby. Let’s get you back before I have to scrape you up off of the floor,” he says, a playful smile on his lips.

I try to protest, but my words are muddled and my tongue is useless. Karl wraps an arm around my waist, guiding me through the crowd. I lean against him, his strength and warmth a comforting presence.

For a moment, it’s as if I forget we’re not married anymore. But only for a moment.

As we make our way to the door, I catch one more glimpse of Leah and Chloe at the table. Leah’s eyes are full of concern, while Chloe’s expression is unreadable. A pang of guilt hits me, but it’s quickly washed away by the dizziness in my head.

The cool night air hits me as we step outside, the sudden change in temperature making me shiver and sober up just a tiny bit. Karl’s grip tightens around me, his concern evident. “You okay?” he asks, his voice soft.

I nod, trying to focus. “Yeah, just... a bit dizzy,” I mumble.

We walk slowly, the quiet of the night enveloping us. The sounds of the pub fade into the background, replaced by the distant hum of the town. The stars above twinkle in the clear sky, their light guiding our way.

“Man,” I say, my voice a little clearer now that the noise of the pub is far behind us. “I miss seeing the stars at night.”

“Yeah,” Karl says with a chuckle. “The city isn’t exactly the best place to stargaze, is it?”

As we reach the end of the street, we stop at a crosswalk while a few cars whizz past. Karl starts walking once the way is clear, but I hesitate, torn somewhere between a drunken stupor and… not much else, actually.

“Abby,” Karl says, coming back for me. “You good?”

“Huh?” I ask, a giggle escaping my lips.

Karl sighs and rolls his eyes, but there’s hardly any heat in the movement. He just turns around, lowering himself slightly. “Climb on.”

I furrow my brow. “Piggyback?”

“What else does it look like?” Karl asks. “Climb on. I’m cold and I wanna go home.”

Karl doesn’t need to tell me twice. I clamber onto his back, my movements loose and clumsy. Once I’m secured, he stands, looping his arms under my knees. “Hold on,” he says. I feel so light as he carries me across the road and up the street, toward the mansion.

“So,” Karl says as he walks, “what made you drink like that?”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “It’s a bar. I was having fun.”

“I know,” Karl says gently, picking up his pace a bit as he walks. “You just seemed like you wanted to escape, that’s all.”

Despite my drunken state, Karl’s words hit me to my core. He’s not wrong; I did want to escape. I wanted to escape from the alley, the kiss, Leah’s discovery, the secret we’re keeping from Chloe, and so, so much more.

“I… I guess I did,” I admit. “But not from you, if that’s worth anything.”

I imagine Karl is raising his eyebrows, although I can’t see his face. “Is that so?” he asks. “I kinda figured I’d be number one on that list.”

“No,” I say softly, resting my spinning head on his shoulder. “Not right now, at least.”

Karl lets out a laugh, and it’s a sweet sound that makes my wolf stir inside of me. Suddenly, I’m imagining his lips on mine again, and the smell of his cologne fills my senses. Without thinking, I turn my head and begin gently kissing his neck. His skin is soft and warm, a welcome reprieve against the cold.

“Abby, what are you doing?” Karl asks, shuddering beneath the touch of my lips.

“Kissing you.”

“You’re drunk. Too drunk for this, I think.”

I pull away, knitting my eyebrows together. “I’m still lucid, you know,” I say. “And I want you. Besides, it’s not like we’ll get caught now.”

Karl pauses, the only sounds that of his breaths coming out and his boots crunching on the sidewalk, which has been sprinkled with salt to ward against ice. “Abby,” he says softly, “I want you too. But… maybe not when you’ll probably just wake up in the morning and regret it more than usual.”

His words create a pang in my chest. I pull away even further, wiggling a bit. Karl stops, letting me drop back to my feet. When he turns to face me, his eyes are filled with concern and something else that I can’t quite read.

“What do you mean, ‘more than usual’?” I ask.

He shrugs. “You always seem to regret hooking up with me,” he says. “And I don’t want to do it if that’s not what you absolutely want. I can’t handle seeing you upset.”

“Karl, I—”

“C’mon,” he says softly, reaching for my hand. “Let’s just get home, okay? We can talk about it later.”

My throat catches, but somehow, I manage to nod. I let Karl take my hand and begin leading me back to the mansion looming in the distance, its yellow lights beckoning to me through the cold. Right now, I should feel relieved knowing that we’ll soon be in the warmth of the mansion, and that I’ll be in my soft bed after a long day.

But I’m not, because Karl’s words keep whirling around in my head. Three years ago, a night of drunken passion would have been a no-brainer. But now, things are different, and it makes me wonder…

How much longer can we keep hooking up before one of us gets painfully, irredeemably hurt?