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

to donate dishes, and when I lived with Karl, the

leftovers.

me, Abby.” Karl finally breaks the silence, his voice

he’s onto me, and probably has been for some time. Probably since he found me

huge here lately,

last to know. Why

eyes meeting his. There’s no point in avoiding the

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

the finalists to compete to cater the Alpha

for a fraction of a second before his expression smooths

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

lacks the warmth I had hoped for, and his smile isn’t quite reaching

he’d prefer that I go to the Alpha

instead of catering it.

rod,

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

says otherwise. What’s going

through his hair. “Look, I wanted to go to

whole catering thing sort of ruins that, though, doesn’t

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

me that hoped that he really has changed, that he would be

making

upset because you wanted to go

is a big deal. I thought it could be something special

he shoots back, his eyes locked onto mine. “And besides, you

pounds in my chest. “I didn’t forget,” I say. “But

television and everything. I’m sorry, but I hoped that you

I understand,” he says, turning away from me for

to go with

the empty kitchen.

no ‘us’, Karl,” I murmur. “I’ve told you countless

between us.”

voice is low and strained,

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

not forget what happened the

The memory of our night right here in

it felt to