Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 159

Abby

The weight of the world feels like it’s pressing down on my shoulders like a leaden weight, and just when I think it can’t get any heavier, Karl appears in the doorway of my office.

“Is everything okay, Abby?” he asks, and there’s a genuine concern in his eyes that almost—almost—makes me want to believe in him again.

I hesitate, my eyes darting to my phone with Chloe’s unsent text. But there’s also a cook-off I need to win, friendships to mend, and a restaurant to run. “I’m fine,” I lie, although my voice betrays me, cracking slightly.

“Come on, Abby.” He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

I sigh, shifting my gaze to my computer screen where an article on black truffles glares back at me. I already promised to myself that I wouldn’t let Karl get closer, and everything in my body is screaming at me right now to send him away.

But before I can stop him, Karl moves closer, leaning on the edge of my desk. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, fine. But if there’s any way I can help—”

“Help?” I snort, incredulous. “You’ve done enough, don’t you think?”

He winces, stung by the harshness of my words.”Alright, fair point,” he concedes, pausing. “But let’s not pretend that I’m the only complicated thing in your life right now.”

His eyes flicker to my computer screen, then back to me. “Now, what’s this about black truffles?”

I exhale deeply, a mixture of relief and frustration swirling within me. As much as it pains me to admit it, he’s right; I’m in desperate need of help. “I need them for a dish I’m working on for the cook-off,” I confess. “But they’re rare, expensive, and the season’s basically over.”

Karl glances at the screen again, his eyes scanning the article. “You know, I might be able to help with that. When I was sourcing ingredients for Adam—”

I flinch at the mention of Adam’s name. Every memory of that whole debacle is a stab to the gut, a cruel reminder of not only the breakup, but the fact that Karl played a role in it.

“I know, I know,” he catches himself, shaking his head. “But Abby, the point is, I have contacts, suppliers who specialize in rare ingredients. If you let me, I can try to secure these truffles for you.”

The thought of accepting Karl’s help churns my stomach. Can I trust him? Should I? But there’s no denying the dire straits I’m in. “Fine,” I finally say. “Give it a shot.”

His eyes light up, almost as if he’s been waiting for this tiny chance at redemption. He quickly pulls out his phone and dials a number. I can hear the phone ring, then someone picks up.

“Hey, Jack,” he says. “It’s Karl. Listen, I need a favor.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I listen to him speak to the supplier. There’s a hint of urgency in his voice, but also a smooth confidence that I remember all too well. It’s the same confidence that charmed me once upon a time, the same confidence that I’ve been trying to protect myself from.

He stops, standing just inches from me. For a few agonizing moments, neither of us says a word. Finally, he breaks the silence. “If you want to cut me off, for the sake of your friends, your restaurant, your peace of mind, I would understand. I’ll leave you alone after this, Abby.”

His words hang heavy between us. And even as I stand there, choked up, contemplating the multitude of choices I could make, I feel it—my wolf stirring within me. Our proximity is electric, each moment that ticks by amplifying the tension. The air is thick with unsaid words, unmade choices, and I have the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

We both lean in, ever so slightly, the magnetic pull almost irresistible. But just as our lips are about to touch, I step back, catching myself in the nick of time.

“Karl,” I manage to say, my voice surprisingly steady despite the emotional storm inside of me, “just keep your head down and focus on work. I’ll find a way to make my friends come around, but you have to promise me—promise me—you won’t cause any more trouble.”

For a second, I see a myriad of emotions flash through his eyes—regret, hope, maybe even love? Then, ever so gently, he brushes a stray strand of hair from my eyes, sending yet another electric shock through me.

“I promise, Abby. I won’t do anything to make things worse. Not again.”

His words should comfort me, but they also leave me more confused than ever. He moves to walk past me, pausing as he reaches the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says softly, his eyes lingering on me one last moment before he leaves. “And don’t worry. We’ll find a way to get you those truffles.”