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

leftovers.

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

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

“You’ve clearly been up to something huge here lately, and I’m

to know. Why keep me in

I put the knife down, my eyes meeting his.

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

of the finalists to compete

second before his expression smooths over into something I

now. “That’s great, Abby. I’m

had hoped for, and his smile

all this time—that he’d

instead of catering it.

it,” I p rod, my own

I said I’m proud of you,”

your tone says otherwise. What’s going

running a hand through his hair. “Look, I wanted

sort of ruins that, though,

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

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

instead of making it

you wanted to go to a

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

locked onto mine. “And besides, you

forget,” I say. “But this competition…

It’s going to be on television and everything. I’m sorry,

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

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

the empty kitchen.

told you countless times before

between us.”

and strained, like

keeping me on a string this whole

to jump through. And let’s not

night right here

me of how it felt to