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 and guests were always

leftovers.

well tell me, Abby.” Karl finally breaks the silence, his voice tinged with

been for some time. Probably since he

something huge here

Why

meeting his.

might as well rip off the band-aid now. “Okay, fine,” I

one of the finalists to compete to cater

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

right now. “That’s great, Abby. I’m

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

I feared all this time—that he’d prefer

instead of catering it.

I p rod, my own words edged

I said I’m proud of you,” he

but your tone says otherwise. What’s going

running a hand through his hair. “Look, I wanted to go to the Alpha party with

sort of

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

of me that hoped that he really has changed, that he would be genuinely happy for

of making it about

to go to a party?

just any party, Abby. The Alpha party is a big deal. I thought

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

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

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

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

to go with me.”

the empty kitchen.

“I’ve told you countless

between us.”

strained, like he’s trying to hold himself back. “Because

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

And let’s not forget what

of our night

felt to have him close like that