Page 7 of Loving Luna

She had run. Immediately. Her jaw had dropped, her face had gone white. She’d stared at me silently for what felt like hours. And then she’d stuttered, “I can’t do this right now” and just… bolted.

She’d avoided me ever since.

Ghosted, really.

She wouldn’t answer calls, ignored texts, didn’t even like the funny peacock meme I’d sent her.

She didn’t sit with me at lunch. Wouldn’t wave at me if she saw me coming to work in the morning when she was making her way to campus for the classes she needed for her psych degree. Hell, when she saw me in the hallway, she stared at the floor and did an abrupt about-face so she wouldn’t walk anywhere near me.

It had been the worst week and a half of my life.

Which was why I absolutely could not fuck this up. Under any circumstances.

I had to play it cool. Had to ignore my true feelings and concentrate on being cool. Because I was pretty sure that somehow I’d survive not ending up with Luna.

I was absolutely certain I would not survive not having her in my life.

I had to get my friend back. If it was the last thing I did.

Somehow I made it through the end of my shift, made it through handing off the reins to Jaben.

And then instead of hightailing it out of the Dungeon and home for a beer and a hot shower the way I usually would, I went over to the bar and sat down to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Just when I’d started to inwardly curse her out for standing me up, and myself out for being such a gullible goon for thinking she’d be here, just when I was about to storm off to her suite and pound on the door, then stomp in and throw her over my knee and spank her perfect ass until she would listen to reason, I looked at the clock.

And reminded myself that Luna was always late. Never to work, and never to class, but to everything else.

It felt like I’d been waiting forever, but that was because I’d been wishing for this moment all week. In reality, since my shift ended, I’d only been sitting here for eleven minutes. In Luna’s world, that was the same as being on time.

With a sigh, I went ahead and ordered myself a beer, and her a glass of Moscato. I considered it a “good faith” gesture.

As soon as the drinks showed up, so did she.

I heard her before I saw her. In typical Luna social butterfly fashion, she called out to everyone as she made her way to me.

“Hey, Jenna, looking good!”

“Oh wow, I love your top!”

“Oh my god. That collar is stunning. It looks amazing on you. Slay, Queen.”

I didn’t even need to look to know that those last two comments had been made to complete strangers.

But I did look. Not to see who she’d called out to, but to see her.

And when I did, my jaw dropped. My stomach knotted. My face flushed. And I knew that there was absolutely no way in hell I was going to be able to play it cool.

Luna knew me better than anyone. That meant she knew exactly what my buttons were and how to push them. And she was currently dressed like she was cosplaying from the pages of my all-time-favorite erotic romance novel.

That naughty minx.

Her pink hair, usually worn in a bun, a high ponytail or a bob, depending on the occasion, was in pigtails. Luna never wore pigtails. She knew I loved them, but she always laughed and said that pigtails were for Littles and while she loved them dearly, she wouldn’t want to be mistaken for one.

It wasn’t just the pigtails, either. Her normally dark-painted lips were a saucy, bright pink. They matched the shade her hair was when it was freshly dyed.

---