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

argued, voices raised, over her decision to compete

felt betrayed; she’d

stirs, restless. “You messed up big time,”

I reply, my mind a swirl of regret

the day winds down, as the kitchen grows quieter, the realization sinks in deeper. Abby

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

and desires should mean as much to

in the

that’s been driven between

You good here?” John asks, snapping me

tomorrow,” I say, forcing

casting a somewhat concerned glance my way before exiting the kitchen. Alone now,

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

one.

decide that right now, I think I’d

…

closed, but the bar always stays open for a couple of hours longer. I sit at

lot like failure. My eyes catch my

piercing. Should I have

have to make things so complicated.

Karl,” my wolf murmurs, his voice a gravelly echo in my

proud. Not territorial.”

in its glass. “She knew

—”

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

show support. Show that you

but my wolf has already

thoughts and

walks over to refill my glass, her eyes cold,

feels for me into the glass along

ask, setting down the glass harder than I mean

now instead

can

with a touch of

aren’t I?”

you mean like how you missed being supportive of Abby when

voice drips

So she knows.

what went down last

her through, you’ve got the

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

For a moment, I almost consider being vindictive