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 her decision to compete

felt betrayed; she’d felt

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

my mind a swirl of regret and confusion. “Trust

as the kitchen grows quieter, the realization sinks in deeper. Abby isn’t

not just another chef.

and desires should mean as much

yet, I let my insecurities, my fears, get in the way. I shake my head,

been driven between

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

you tomorrow,” I say,

concerned glance my way before exiting the kitchen. Alone

my apron and hang it up. My eyes catch Abby’s office door, still

one.

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

…

for a couple of hours longer. I sit at

whiskey that tastes a lot like failure.

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

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

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

proud. Not territorial.”

whiskey in its glass. “She knew how much

—”

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

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

back defensively, but

and

cue, Chloe, one of the bartenders, walks over to refill my glass, her eyes cold,

pour that disdain she feels for

I ask, setting down the glass harder than I

instead of

who’s asking, I think I can manage

shoot up, surprise mingling with a touch of

aren’t I?”

something? Oh, you mean like how you missed being

voice

So she knows.

I know what went down last night, how

got the nerve

has always

now. For a moment, I almost consider