Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Chapter 107

Karl

“Watch it, you’re massacring those veggies,” John calls out, glancing over from the stove where he’s

sauteeing some garlic and mushrooms.

I chuckle, adjusting my grip on the knife. I’m supposed to be julienning some peppers, but instead I’ve

lost my train of thought and accidentally begun dicing them instead. “Yeah, well, they had it coming.”

John grins, shaking his head. “Y’know, you’re not as unfunny and stupid as I thought you were.”

“Could say the same about you,” I reply, gathering the sliced vegetables into a bowl.

Who would’ve thought? John and I, mortal enemies turned reluctant allies. A couple of weeks ago, we

could barely stand to be in the same room, but time and circumstances—and angry bosses—have a

way of forcing you to reassess your priorities.

“It’s all about collaboration,” John continues, his tone more philosophical than I thought the brute would

be capable of. “You can’t make a great dish with just one ingredient. Same with a kitchen. Everyone’s

got to pull their weight, contribute their flavor for the bigger picture.”

“You should put that on a plaque or something.”

“And have everyone roll their eyes? Nah, I’ll stick to cooking,” he laughs, adding a splash of white wine

to the pan, filling the air with a rich, aromatic scent.

The door to Abby’s office opens, and for a moment, my world narrows. She steps out, her eyes

scanning the room as if looking for something—or someone. When her gaze falls on me, my heart

leaps in anticipation.

But she averts her eyes, quickening her pace as she walks out of the kitchen.

The atmosphere turns brittle around me. John notices, his eyes narrowing. “Hey, snap out of it! You’re

burning the scallops.”

“Sorry,” I mutter.

I refocus on the task at hand, on the sound of the scallops sizzling in the pan, but the weight of last

night hangs over me like a dark cloud. We’d argued, voices raised, over her decision to compete in that

culinary contest despite our earlier agreement. I’d felt betrayed; she’d felt cornered. And now, this.

The wolf inside me stirs, restless. “You messed up big time,” he says, a growl wrapped in a whisper.

“I know,” I reply, my mind a swirl of regret and confusion. “Trust me. I know.”

As the day winds down, as the kitchen grows quieter, the realization sinks in deeper. Abby isn’t just the

co-owner of this restaurant. She’s not just another chef. She’s someone I care deeply about, someone

whose dreams and desires should mean as much to me as my own.

And yet, I let my insecurities, my fears, get in the way. I shake my head, frustrated with myself, with the

wedge that’s been driven between us.

“I’m heading out. You good here?” John asks, snapping me back to reality.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow,” I say, forcing a smile. This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

He nods, casting a somewhat concerned glance my way before exiting the kitchen. Alone now, I take

off my apron and hang it up. My eyes catch Abby’s office door, still closed, a barrier in more ways than

one.

For a moment, I almost knock. But then, I decide that right now, I think I’d rather have a drink.

…

The kitchen is closed, but the bar always stays open for a couple of hours longer. I sit at the counter,

nursing a glass of whiskey that tastes a lot like failure. My eyes catch my reflection in the glass, the

questions there unanswered, piercing. Should I have reacted the way I did to Abby?

I just wish that she didn’t have to make things so complicated. This isn’t what I planned.

“She’s succeeding in life, Karl,” my wolf murmurs, his voice a gravelly echo in my mind. “You should be

proud. Not territorial.”

“Proud?” I almost snort, swirling the whiskey in its glass. “She knew how much that party meant to me

—”