Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 69: Serving Judgments
Karl

“Watch it, you’re massacring those veggies,” John calls out, glancing over from the stove where he’s

sauteeing some garlic and mushrooms.

I chuckle, adjusting my grip on the knife. I’m supposed to be julienning some peppers, but instead I’ve

lost my train of thought and accidentally begun dicing them instead. “Yeah, well, they had it coming.”

John grins, shaking his head. “Y’know, you’re not as unfunny and st upid as I thought you were.”

“Could say the same about you,” I reply, gathering the sliced vegetables into a bowl.

Who would’ve thought? John and I, mortal enemies turned reluctant allies. A couple of weeks ago, we

could barely stand to be in the same room, but time and circumstances—and angry bosses—have a

way of forcing you to reassess your priorities.

“It’s all about collaboration,” John continues, his tone more philosophical than I thought the brute would

be capable of. “You can’t make a great dish with just one ingredient. Same with a kitchen. Everyone’s

got to pull their weight, contribute their flavor for the bigger picture.”

“You should put that on a plaque or something.”

“And have everyone roll their eyes? Nah, I’ll stick to cooking,” he laughs, adding a splash of white wine

to the pan, filling the air with a rich, aromatic scent.

The door to Abby’s office opens, and for a moment, my world narrows. She steps out, her eyes

scanning the room as if looking for something—or someone. When her gaze falls on me, my heart

leaps in anticipation.

But she averts her eyes, quickening her pace as she walks out of the kitchen.

The atmosphere turns brittle around me. John notices, his eyes narrowing. “Hey, snap out of it! You’re

burning the scallops.”

“Sorry,” I mutter.

I refocus on the task at hand, on the sound of the scallops sizzling in the pan, but the weight of last

dark cloud. We’d argued, voices raised, over

I’d felt betrayed; she’d felt

me stirs, restless. “You messed up big time,” he says, a

mind a swirl of regret and confusion. “Trust me.

the day winds down, as the kitchen grows quieter, the realization sinks in deeper. Abby isn’t just

She’s not just another chef. She’s someone

mean as much

in the way. I

been

out. You good here?” John asks, snapping me back

tomorrow,” I say, forcing

somewhat concerned glance my way before exiting the kitchen.

it up. My eyes catch Abby’s

one.

knock. But then, I decide that

…

open for a couple of hours longer. I sit

like failure. My eyes catch my reflection in

unanswered, piercing. Should I have reacted the way I did to

wish that she didn’t have to make

wolf murmurs, his voice

proud. Not territorial.”

I almost snort, swirling the whiskey in its glass. “She knew how much

—”

know how much this competition means to her,” my wolf retorts. “If you

to show support. Show that you care. And not just

but my wolf has already withdrawn, leaving me alone

and

if on cue, Chloe, one of the bartenders, walks

pour that disdain she feels for me into the glass along

the look?” I ask, setting down the

instead

I can manage

a touch of indignation.

aren’t I?”

how you missed being

Her voice

So she knows.

tells me everything, Karl. I know what went down last night, how you made

you’ve got the nerve

like I’ve been slapped. Chloe has always been direct, no-nonsense, but

I wasn’t prepared for right now. For