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

lived with Karl, the

leftovers.

might as well tell me, Abby.” Karl finally breaks the

me, and probably has been for

up to something huge here lately, and I’m starting to

know. Why keep

I put the knife down, my eyes meeting his. There’s

off the band-aid now. “Okay, fine,” I

one of the finalists to

a second before his expression

“That’s great, Abby. I’m

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

feared all this time—that he’d prefer that I go to

instead of catering it.

you mean it,” I p rod, my

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

but your tone says otherwise. What’s going

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

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

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

really

instead of making

to go to

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

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

I say.

on television and everything.

me for a

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

the empty kitchen.

told you countless times

between us.”

voice is low and strained, like he’s

me on a string this whole time, giving

And let’s not forget what

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

to have him close