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

when I lived with Karl, the servants

leftovers.

Karl finally breaks the

been for

something huge

last to know. Why

down, my eyes meeting his. There’s

well rip off the band-aid now.

finalists to

eyes widen for a fraction of a second before his expression smooths over

great, Abby. I’m proud

voice lacks the warmth I had hoped for,

time—that he’d prefer that I go

instead of catering it.

sound like you mean it,” I p rod, my own words edged with a

I said I’m proud of you,”

but your tone says otherwise.

“Look, I wanted to go to the

sort

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

a part of me that hoped that he really has changed, that he would be

making it about

to go

Abby. The Alpha party is a big deal. I thought

eyes locked onto mine. “And besides, you promised. Or did you

didn’t forget,” I say. “But this competition… It

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

I understand,” he says, turning away from me for a moment. “But what about us?

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

the empty kitchen.

Karl,” I murmur. “I’ve told you countless times before that it’s not

between us.”

and strained,

to me like you’ve just been keeping me on a string

And let’s not forget what

The memory of our night right here in this kitchen whirls

it felt to have