Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 67: Crossroads
Abby

The tension in the room feels palpable, a thick curtain of unsaid words and unexplored emotions

hanging in the air between Karl and me. My grip tightens on the knife handle as I glance at the chaos of

ingredients strewn across the counter.

“Tell me first,” I blurt out, wanting to avoid the inevitable confrontation as long as possible. “What are

you doing here? The restaurant closed hours ago.”

Karl sighs and shakes his head, walking past me and over to the line. I watch as he bends down

behind the counter and disappears for a moment, muttering to himself, before he stands back up and

holds something up in the air: his wallet.

“Dropped this earlier,” he says, slipping it into his pocket. “Wanted to come back and make sure it was

here. Now it’s your turn. What are you doing here at…” He glances at his watch. “One o’clock in the

morning?”

I swallow, glancing around at the ingredients and half-cooked dishes all around the kitchen. The sink is

full of empty dishes from failed attempts, the trash can is practically overflowing with said failed

attempts, and the various successful attempts are lined up on the adjacent counter for pictures to keep

in mind for presentation ideas.

“I, um…” I find myself choking up slightly. “I’m just practicing,” I half-lie. “Wanted to test my skills.”

Karl raises an eyebrow. “And waste all these ingredients? You’re not that type of chef.”

I nearly curse out loud. Karl is right; I’ve never been the type to waste ingredients.

Even in the past, when I’ve gone on creative cooking sprees, I would never just throw things away

when the dishes don’t turn out perfectly. There’s a food pantry right down the street that I visit

with Karl, the servants and guests

leftovers.

Karl finally breaks the silence, his voice tinged

been for

something huge here lately, and I’m starting

to know. Why

put the knife down, my eyes meeting

the band-aid now. “Okay, fine,” I mutter, wiping

finalists to

widen for a fraction of a second before his expression smooths over into something

now. “That’s great, Abby. I’m proud of

had hoped for, and his smile

this time—that he’d prefer that I go to the Alpha

instead of catering it.

I p rod, my own words edged

I’m proud of you,” he retorts, clearly

tone says

his hair. “Look, I wanted to

date. This whole catering thing sort of

though I expected this sort of response from him, I’m still taken

he really has

instead of making

to go to a

not just any party, Abby. The Alpha party is a big deal. I

shoots back, his eyes locked onto mine. “And

pounds in my chest. “I didn’t forget,” I say. “But this competition… It

and everything. I’m

course I understand,” he says, turning away from me for a moment. “But what about us? Don’t

too? I thought you wanted to go with me.” His voice

the empty kitchen.

‘us’, Karl,” I murmur. “I’ve told you countless times before that it’s

between us.”

low and strained, like he’s

me like you’ve just been keeping me on a string this whole time, giving me

jump through. And let’s not forget

wince at his words. The memory of our night right here in this kitchen

how it felt to have him