Page 8 of Loving Luna

Her eye makeup was different too. Bright and light, highlighting the pale blue of her eyes instead of trying to disguise it.

And her outfit. She’d left the Dungeon in a mesh top and pink thong. I’d expected, after a session like the one she’d just endured, that she’d show up in her comfort clothes—a ratty concert tee, and a pair of fleece sweatpants, with nothing underneath. Maybe even one of her looser gothic-style dresses if she wanted to be fancy.

But she wasn’t in either of those things. She wasn’t in anything I’d seen her in before.

I was pretty sure the outfit she was wearing wasn’t even hers.

That realization made me choke back a smug smile as she approached. If it wasn’t hers, that meant she’d put in extra effort tonight, just to meet me for a drink. Just because she wanted to get to me.

And if that was the case… it meant that no matter how hard she was trying to act otherwise, she really did care. And this self-imposed break she was forcing on us both was getting to her too.

That fact was like a balm to my soul as she sank down into the padded stool beside me.

Play it cool. Play it cool. Play it cool.

I wrapped both hands around the beer bottle in front of me, and barely glanced up as I pushed the wine glass in front of her.

I let her stew on my actions for a few moments before I glanced up, lifted my brows ever so slightly and said “nice dress” gesturing to the barely there number that had me fighting every urge to readjust my suddenly hard-as-a-rock cock beneath the fabric of the thick black jeans I wore when guarding the Dungeon.

Was it ridiculously immature game playing? Was I doing it just to get to her?

Absolutely.

As my gran always used to say, what was good for the goose was good for the gander.

Luna huffed a little, then when I looked up at her, picked up her wine glass and drained it.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were narrowed into slits. And honestly, I thought she might bolt again.

I sighed. It was time to be done playing games. At least these ones.

Taking a moment to let my eyes roam over every inch of her I could see at the moment, I made no secret of my appreciation this time, and smiled coyly.

“You look nice. Is that new?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Oh this old thing? It’s been sitting in the back of my closet for ages.”

My ass. I knew without a doubt that wasn’t true. Before I could call her on it, she called herself out.

“Alright, fine. I borrowed it from Mia. C’mon, you know I wouldn’t have anything like this.”

I nodded. “I do know that. I never insinuated you did. That was all you.”

“Oh. Right.” Luna had the good grace to look at least mildly chagrined.

She looked down at her empty glass, frowned, and fumbled with the stem. “Um… how are you?” Her voice came out forced sounding. Forced and fake. Like she was being strung up by her fingernails and made to chit-chat with a stranger.

Taking a moment’s pity on her, I waved over the bartender and motioned for Jenna to fill up Luna’s glass and bring me another beer.

When she did, I smiled, thanked her, and turned my attention back to Luna, who already had her wine glass to her lips but was taking much smaller sips this time.

I sipped my beer, placed it back on the table in front of me, popped the top off the new one and sighed as I angled my stool toward my best friend and caught her knees between mine.

“Now let’s both cut the crap. We know we need to talk. So let’s talk.”

Luna swallowed, then shrugged. “Okay, fine. Talk, then.”

She was, apparently, not in fact, done playing games.

---