Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 132

Abby

“Need some company?”

Karl’s eyes slide over to the bottle in my hand, and a slight smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. He scooches aside and nods for me to join him. “Sure.”

I join him as he leans against the wall. Our shoulders brush as we stand beside one another, a familiar yet bittersweetly nostalgic current of electricity running up my spine. I tilt the bottle up to my lips and take a swig, then hand it to him. He does the same.

“So…” he starts, but then hesitates, the words hanging heavily in the air.

“What’s up?”

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says, peering down into the bottle as he swirls the wine around.

“Like what happened the other night?” The words escape before I can rein them in. A hot flush of embarrassment immediately rises into my cheeks; the alcohol tonight has made my lips looser than usual, and I hate to admit it, but I’ve been thinking about our kiss in the pantry a lot tonight.

A beat of silence passes between us.

“You mean the kiss,” he says softly, looking up at me, his eyes intense and unreadable. “Abby, I—”

“I want to apologize,” I interrupt. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Stop,” he says. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have done that. It was insensitive and selfish.”

My eyes widen slightly at Karl’s words. I didn’t expect him to apologize like that. Apologizing isn’t exactly something that the old Karl ever liked to do.

I find myself turning toward him, taking the bottle from his hands. I take a big swig, then hand it back. Our fingers brush and our eyes meet.

“Karl, I…”

He shakes his head as though reading my mind. “Let’s not talk about it tonight, okay? Right now, you should be focusing on tomorrow. On your cook-off.”

I blink, looking away to hide my confusion. “Okay,’ I say, though I can’t deny the ache in my chest, the yearning to press my lips to his again. Maybe it’s the wine talking, or the flowers, or the way his eyes looked when he was in the audience. But I know I have to ignore it, because Karl is right. “Tomorrow. Got it.”

The tension between us eases a little, but the unsaid words still hover over our heads, watching, waiting.

Karl takes another deep swig of the wine, as if fortifying himself for something, then takes a deep breath. “Can I tell you something?”

I nod, turning my head to look at him. The brick wall feels cool against my back. It’s grounding in a weird way. “Shoot.”

Karl sighs. “So, my brother may wake up soon,” he says quietly. “From his coma.”

My eyebrows raise. As far as I know, Karl’s brother has been in a coma for a long time. Years, actually. Karl took over as Alpha in his wake. “Is that a good thing?” I ask.

He shrugs, swirling the wine around in the bottle again. “Technically, yes,” he says. “But also…”

“Also…??” I push gently, my mind racing through the implications.

“He might challenge me for Alpha. Might want to take back what was his. The pack might follow him, too. I love my pack, Abby. I don’t want to lose them.”

His vulnerability strikes a chord in me. “I didn’t realize things were so complicated for you. You carry all this weight on your shoulders, yet you never let it show.”

He chuckles. “It’s part of being an Alpha. Showing weakness is not an option.”

“But isn’t it exhausting? Always having to be the strong one?”

He looks at me then, really looks at me, and for a second I see a glimmer of something raw, something vulnerable. “More than you can imagine,” he admits.

I reach out, my hand hovering in the air between us, before pulling back. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because...I trust you. Because you should know why I really might have to leave soon. I’ve been shirking my duties for too long. I need to go back and take care of my pack.”

“That’s a big responsibility,” I murmur. “But I know you can do it. You always have.”

Karl is silent for a few moments before taking another swig of the wine. He holds it out for me, but I shake my head, and he shrugs and takes another.

“I feel a little bit like a failure,” he suddenly blurts out. “Like what my pack is saying about me… that I’m a bad Alpha… might be true.”

My eyes widen. “Karl! Don’t—”

“Abby,” he says, tilting his head back to look up at the sky, “I came here—to this city—for you. To win you back. No other reason. And I practically abandoned my pack. I’ve been dealing with everything over the phone, over email.”

His words make my heart sink. I guess I knew that it was true, but hearing it out loud like this kind of hurts, I’ll admit, and not in the way I would have thought.

I feel a little guilty—guilty for stringing him along like this, guilty for keeping him here for so long, guilty for allowing him to shirk his responsibilities and lose approval as Alpha, all so I could keep him on a leash in case I ever decided to get back together with him.

And what really sucks is that even now, even as he’s telling me this, I’m still not sure what I want. I don’t know if I want to get back together, even after everything he’s done for me, and it must hurt him more than I could ever know.

We fall into silence, each lost in our thoughts, the wine bottle danging from his fingers.

My eyes keep straying to his lips, remembering the feel of them on mine, wondering if it will happen again. But the gravity of what he’s shared holds me back. This isn’t the time for that.

“So,” I murmur, wanting to change the subject, at least a little bit, “we won’t see each other until the Alpha party?” The words come out softer than I intend, tinged with a sense of loss I never expected to feel.

“That’s the plan,” he confirms. “Unless you plan on forfeiting your cooking competition and joining me back home?”

I force a laugh, even as my heart clenches at the thought. “Tempting. But, you know, pride and all that.”

He looks at me, a soft smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Of course. Can’t have the famous chef bow out, can we?”

His words lighten the mood, but the space between us still feels loaded, every word and glance laden with unspoken emotions. We both take another sip of wine, as if the liquid courage could make this easier.

“You know,” I start, unsure of how to frame the words that are clawing at the back of my throat, “even if I lose tomorrow, I’ll still be your date for the Alpha party. If you want me to be, that is.”

His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the world around us falls away. “You’re not going to lose,” he says softly. “But I’m glad to hear you say that.”

Something flickers between us then, an understanding, a connection. It’s as if, for the first time in a long time, we’re seeing each other for what we really are: two lost souls searching for our other half, passing by each other in a sea of blotted out stars and wine.

“We should head back,” he suddenly suggests, pulling me back into reality. “People will start thinking we ran off together.”

I nod, reluctant to break the spell of the moment. “You’re right.”

We start to move, gathering up the half-empty wine bottle, our movements a little clumsier, a little slower, as if we’re both hesitant to let this night end. Finally, we step out of the alley, heading back toward the building.

But just as I reach for the door, Karl stops me, his hand catching mine in a firm grip.

“Abby…” he says, his voice tinged with a seriousness that makes me look up.

“Yeah?” I murmur.

He pauses, licking his lips in that oh-so-Karl way that makes me want to close the distance between us. “I want you to know, I’m really proud of you.”

My heart skips a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you, Karl,” I manage. “That means a lot.”

He squeezes my hand, holding my gaze for a moment longer. Then, he lets go. “Good luck tomorrow.”