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

our earlier agreement. I’d felt betrayed; she’d felt cornered. And now,

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

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

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 I

and desires should mean as

let my insecurities, my fears, get in the way.

been

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

I say, forcing a

nods, casting a somewhat concerned glance my way before

up. My eyes catch Abby’s office door,

one.

then, I decide that right now, I think I’d rather have

…

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

that tastes a lot like failure. My eyes catch

Should I have reacted the way I

just wish that she didn’t have to make things so

my wolf murmurs, his voice a gravelly echo in my mind.

proud. Not territorial.”

its glass. “She knew how much that party

—”

know how much this competition means to her,”

need to show support. Show

but my wolf has

thoughts and

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

feels for me into the glass along with the

down the glass harder than I mean

instead

who’s asking, I think I can manage both,” she

surprise mingling with a touch

aren’t I?”

mean like how you missed being supportive

Her voice drips

So she knows.

went down last night, how you made her feel. After

through, you’ve got the nerve

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

wasn’t prepared for right now. For a moment, I almost consider