Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Chapter 104
Abby

The tension in the room feels palpable, a thick curtain of unsaid words and unexplored emotions

hanging in the air between Karl and me. My grip tightens on the knife handle as I glance at the chaos of

ingredients strewn across the counter.

“Tell me first,” I blurt out, wanting to avoid the inevitable confrontation as long as possible. “What are

you doing here? The restaurant closed hours ago.”

Karl sighs and shakes his head, walking past me and over to the line. I watch as he bends down

behind the counter and disappears for a moment, muttering to himself, before he stands back up and

holds something up in the air: his wallet.

“Dropped this earlier,” he says, slipping it into his pocket. “Wanted to come back and make sure it was

here. Now it’s your turn. What are you doing here at…” He glances at his watch. “One o’clock in the

morning?”

I swallow, glancing around at the ingredients and half-cooked dishes all around the kitchen. The sink is

full of empty dishes from failed attempts, the trash can is practically overflowing with said failed

attempts, and the various successful attempts are lined up on the adjacent counter for pictures to keep

in mind for presentation ideas.

“I, um…” I find myself choking up slightly. “I’m just practicing,” I half-lie. “Wanted to test my skills.”

Karl raises an eyebrow. “And waste all these ingredients? You’re not that type of chef.”

I nearly curse out loud. Karl is right; I’ve never been the type to waste ingredients.

Even in the past, when I’ve gone on creative cooking sprees, I would never just throw things away

when the dishes don’t turn out perfectly. There’s a food pantry right down the street that I visit

with Karl, the se rvants and guests

leftovers.

Karl finally breaks the silence, his voice

has been for some time. Probably since

to something huge

last to know. Why keep me in the

meeting his. There’s no point

the band-aid now. “Okay, fine,” I mutter, wiping my hands on my

one of the finalists to

of a second before his expression smooths over into something

decipher right now. “That’s great, Abby.

something’s off. His voice lacks the warmth I had hoped for,

what I feared all this time—that he’d prefer that I go to

instead of catering it.

like you mean it,” I pr od, my own words edged

I said I’m proud of

your tone says otherwise. What’s going on,

running a hand through his hair. “Look, I wanted to go to the Alpha party

catering thing sort of ruins that,

though I expected this sort of response from him, I’m still taken aback.

me that hoped that he really has changed, that he would be genuinely

instead of making it

upset because you wanted to go to

Abby. The Alpha party is a big deal.

eyes locked onto mine. “And

chest. “I didn’t forget,” I say. “But this

going to be on television and everything. I’m sorry, but I hoped that you would

understand,” he says, turning away from me

to go with me.” His

the empty kitchen.

told you countless times before that it’s

between us.”

though?” His voice is low and strained, like he’s trying to hold

keeping me on

not forget what happened the

The memory of our night

of how it felt to