Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 76: All Buttered Up
Abby

My apartment door shuts behind me with a satisfying click after a long day of being away from home.

With a sigh, I throw my bag on the couch, and flop down beside it.

But it’s not long before I’m on my feet again, pacing my apartment floor as I chew on my lower lip.

Karl’s proposition still lingers in my mind: going with him to the pack? To our old home?

My first instinct screams at me to not go, of course. To return to our old home together? How is that not

a recipe for disaster?

As I finally decide to pour myself a glass of wine to calm my frayed nerves, I think to myself that right

now, I really do have it all. A successful career, friends who love me, and the cook-off coming up. Why

throw a wrench into it by letting Karl back into my life in that way? We’re doing just fine as friends,

keeping everything at arm’s length between us. There’s no need for it to become more than that.

But then, there’s still a tiny sliver of myself that almost considers going with him. My life was once

entwined with his, after all. The long talks in our garden at sunset, the joy of cooking in a kitchen I had

designed myself.

But that was a lifetime ago.

I take a sip of wine, letting the bitter flavor linger on my tongue before swallowing. “Tomorrow,” I

resolve, “I’ll tell him I can’t go. It’s for the best.”

…

The scent of freshly brewed coffee greets me the moment I walk into the restaurant. It’s comforting and

slightly bittersweet, but also unexpected. I should be the only one here right now, and I didn’t see

Ethan’s car on the way in; but I’ve hardly made it halfway through the door when Karl suddenly steps

of sight, a coffee cup in

eyes searching mine for something—confirmation, maybe,

reassurance.

cautiously. “You’re here

to me. “Wanted to get some prep work done.

cup. It’s sweet and light, just the way I like it. But I can sense Karl’s

trying to butter me up again,

surprisingly

a slightly serious tone take over my voice. “And actually, I’ve

I can’t come with you. It’s not a

flickers across his eyes is subtle but unmistakable. But much to my

nods.

my mind.

the amount of times I’ve heard Karl utter

I find myself saying. “You’re not gonna try

anyway?”

decision whether you go or not. I just wanted

you a chance to take a little time off. But if

I’m left standing here, coffee cup in

assume that he had ulterior motives behind

wonder if that was ever the case

…

the post-lunch

moment before the chaos of

or crises to deal with, I decide to leave the sanctuary of my

floor. But as I do, I

by the kitchen, chatting amicably. My first instinct is to approach them, maybe crack a

suspect that the conversation will go south, but something

their line of sight but close enough to

what kind of food do you like?” Karl asks. His voice is genuine, not the flirty tone

talking to a pretty young

basic, but I honestly just love Italian food,” Daisy says. “I feel like I

a day for the rest of my life and

“Ah, a woman after my own heart. Have you

dish on the menu, in my opinion! I kind of wish we had

dishes like that.”

response. I can hear the note of pride in his voice,

heart wander a bit