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

donate dishes, and when I lived with Karl,

leftovers.

well tell me, Abby.” Karl finally breaks

has been for

huge here lately, and

to know. Why keep

down, my eyes meeting his. There’s no point in avoiding the inevitable

rip off the band-aid now. “Okay, fine,” I mutter, wiping my

the finalists to compete

a second before his expression smooths over into something

“That’s great, Abby.

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

time—that he’d prefer that

instead of catering it.

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

I’m proud of you,” he retorts,

says otherwise. What’s

his hair. “Look, I wanted to go to the

date. This whole catering thing sort of ruins

expected this sort of response from him, I’m still

a part of me that hoped that he really has changed, that he would be genuinely happy for

making

to go to

party is a big

his eyes locked onto mine. “And besides, you promised. Or

forget,” I say. “But this competition… It could

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

I understand,” he says, turning away from me for a moment. “But what about

thought you wanted to go with

the empty kitchen.

told you countless times before that it’s not

between us.”

His voice is low and strained, like he’s trying to

me like you’ve just been keeping me on

through. And let’s not forget what

our night right here in

me of how it felt to have him