Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

His gaze finally breaks from mine, looking at anything but my face. “I was just

checking something,” he says, his voice so low it’s a whisper.

“Oh, you were ‘checking something?’” I echo, my tone chalk full of disbelief. “By

switching labels and possibly ruining our dish? Hm?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it again, the perfect picture of guilt.

“I was just…” He stammers, his voice trailing off.

I can’t take it anymore. I’m getting those truffles—the real black truffles, the ones

that are balled up in his filthy little hand, about to be slipped into his pocket—for

Abby, one way or another.

Enter title…

I find myself lurching forward, fueled by

and snatch

I call out, loud enough for the others to

you up to this?”

truffles come into my possession, the sous chef’s

something unreadable, and suddenly, he’s cradling

pain.

wrist! You hurt me!” he cries

in hand, shocked. “I

you!”

the pantry walls, drawing eyes toward us like moths

falls deathly silent, save for his

our direction, eager to capture this drama

touch him! He’s

“He was swapping the

truffles and—”

narrative has shifted, and I can see it in the