Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 75: Come Home
Karl

Abby’s face looks apprehensive, which was exactly what I feared.

When my secretary called me last week to come home for a pack meeting, my original plan was to slip

back home on the day of the meeting and come back to the city without uttering a word. I wanted to just

get my duties over with and return to my task of trying to win Abby back, but plans have changed.

After everything that’s happened recently, I want her by my side. And although I won’t admit it, in a

selfish way, I want her to see our old home and remember what we had together. Maybe then we can

move things forward.

“Well?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. “Tell me. What’s the catch?”

I pause, choosing my words carefully. “I have to go back to my pack this weekend for a meeting. It’s

family stuff, council discussions, you know. The usual.” I hesitate, reading her face, which now shows a

mix of curiosity and guardedness.

“And…?”

“And… I’d like you to come with me.”

The sudden stillness in her eyes, the subtle twitch of her lips, tells me this isn’t what she expected.

“Karl, you know I have responsibilities here, right? There’s the restaurant first and foremost, and

beyond that, I have to practice for the cook-off.”

“Yeah, I know. But look, it’s a weekend. We’d be back first thing Sunday morning. The restaurant can

manage without you for two days, and as for the cook-off…” I grin, trying to channel some semblance

of charm into my plea, “you can practice in my kitchen. I’ve got it all set up—really, anything you’d

need.”

Her eyes narrow, but not dismissively. She’s considering it, I can tell. I can still remember how much

she loved our old kitchen; she was the one who designed it, after all.

a home chef’s paradise, complete with two ovens, an industrial grade dishwasher,

and an entire pantry

there every day, cooking up some new concoction or

staff put on weight while she was living there

goodie

started collecting dust. I’ve hardly used it since

more or less. And recently, I’ve had the place prepared for

in case she decides to home

decisively. “It’s not a good idea. Karl, we

us being there again…”

trails off, but I know what she was about to say: that the two of

even more complicated than they already are. Duh. That was kind of

reveal that

casual. “I had the guest room all set up

love that room? Your own private balcony

pauses for a few moments as recognition flashes through

room that she adored. She always loved showing it off whenever we had overnight

a fight or when she

me up.” Abby’s words are terse, and she ends the sentence by

drink.

intuition, I chuckle, still trying to sound

“What do you really want

oddly empty and sad. Just like always, she’s

notch. And before I can say anything,

“Karl, we can’t…”

sip of my whiskey to steady myself. It burns

get anything out of you. I just wanted

Thought it

not my

Ouch. Her words sting.

locked in a sort of silent

and bad. What is it that I’m really asking of her? A journey back to

a chance to share a part of my life

it’s more selfish than that—a desire to show her off to my

again.”

lie. It’s tempting,” she finally murmurs. “But right now, it’s

the very least.”

nod, trying to hide the flicker of disappointment that

be leaving

of her whiskey, Abby slides off her stool and puts on her

parts warmth and