Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel 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.

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—”