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

We’d argued, voices raised, over her decision

despite our earlier agreement. I’d felt betrayed;

big

a swirl of regret and confusion.

winds down, as the kitchen grows quieter,

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

mean as much to me

get in the way. I shake my head, frustrated with myself, with

that’s been

John asks, snapping me

I say, forcing a

my way

up. My eyes catch Abby’s office door, still closed, a barrier in more

one.

moment, I almost knock. But then, I decide that right now,

…

kitchen is closed, but the bar always stays open for a couple

tastes a lot like failure. My eyes catch my reflection in

there unanswered, piercing. Should I have

she didn’t have to make things so complicated. This isn’t

succeeding in life, Karl,” my wolf murmurs, his voice a gravelly echo in my mind.

proud. Not territorial.”

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

—”

her,” my wolf retorts. “If

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

defensively, but my wolf has already withdrawn,

thoughts and

of the bartenders, walks over

to pour that disdain she feels for me into the glass

ask, setting down the glass harder

instead of

asking, I think I can

with a touch of indignation.

aren’t I?”

Oh, you mean like how you missed being supportive

voice drips

So she knows.

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

got the nerve to get angry about

Chloe has always been

right now. For a moment, I almost