Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 163

Abby

Sunlight spills through the restaurant windows, casting a warm golden glow over the bar where everyone is leaning. It’s right before opening, and I’ve called everyone: Chloe, Daisy, Ethan, John, and Anton to the front. Leah is here too before work, a cardboard cup of coffee in her hand, which Chloe gave to her on the house.

“So, guys,” I start, my voice trembling slightly. “I have something to tell you.”

Chloe looks up from her phone, a spark of interest in her eyes. Leah takes a sip of her coffee as her eyebrows raise. John, Anton, Ethan, and Daisy lean forward. It’s now or never.

“They want me to cater the Alpha party after all,” I blurt out. “The judges are coming here, on Saturday, to try my food again.” The words tumble out like an avalanche. For a second, there’s silence. Then, the bar erupts.

“What? Seriously?” John’s voice is a mix of shock and pride.

“That’s amazing, Abby!” Daisy’s grin is as bright as ever.

Ethan’s hand lands on my shoulder, his smile gentle and encouraging. “You’re going to knock it out of the park.”

I can’t help the giggle that bubbles up. “Thanks, I—”

“You haven’t been in your kitchen for weeks, Abby,” Chloe interjects, logical as ever. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

The laughter dies in my throat. She’s right. I haven’t cooked anything significant in what feels like an eternity, and the thought of going into the kitchen makes my stomach churn. My skills might as well be nonexistent right now.

“Well, um…” My voice trails off, and I’m left standing here, unsure of what to say. That’s when the first group of customers comes in for breakfast, and the group disperses with murmurs of encouragement, leaving only me, Leah, and Chloe standing at the bar.

“Look,” Leah says, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t Chloe and I come over tonight?”

“Yeah,” Chloe chimes in. “You can cook something for us. Consider it a… practice run.”

I swallow, nodding, and meet my friends’ gazes. “Okay. Practice run. Sounds good.”

…

The smell of garlic and basil fills my kitchen as I chop vegetables with a rhythm that feels both familiar and foreign. Leah and Chloe are due to arrive at any minute, and the knots in my stomach tighten with each slice of the knife.

When the doorbell rings, I nearly jump out of my skin. Pulling myself together, I open the door to find Leah and Chloe, each bearing a bottle of wine and wide smiles.

“You ready to wow us, chef?” Chloe’s eyes dance with mischief.

I lead them into the kitchen, the space that used to be my sanctuary but now feels like a prison. “Let’s hope so.”

Leah peeks over my shoulder at the ingredients laid out on the counter. “It smells incredible in here already.”

I offer a tense smile and gesture toward the stovetop where a pot of sauce simmers. “Just getting started.”

Chloe pops the cork on a bottle of wine, pouring three glasses. “To Abby’s comeback.”

We clink glasses and I take a long sip, the rich flavor of the wine grounding me for a moment.

Steeled by the wine, I turn to the stove and begin, explaining my process as I go. The girls watch, offering nods and hums of approval, but as I add spices to the sauce, my hand trembles.

Memories of the cook-off flood back—the cameras, the embarrassment, the sabotage, the defeat.

Leah is the first to notice the waver in my hand. “Hey, you okay?”

The sauce needs to be stirred, but suddenly, I can’t move. “What if I can’t do this?” My voice is a whisper. “What if I’m not good enough?”

Chloe sets down her glass and steps closer, her gaze firm. “Abby, stop. You’re an amazing chef. One setback doesn’t define you.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Leah cuts in. “Look at us. We’re your guinea pigs, and we’re still alive and kicking. You’ve got this.”

I look at their earnest faces and something shifts inside of me. My friends, my team, my makeshift judges. At least they believe in me, even if I don’t believe in myself.

“Alright,” I exhale. “I can do this.”

“And we’ll help,” Chloe says, pushing up her sleeves. “Right, Leah?”

Leah nods and sets her wine glass down. “We sure can.”

Before I know it, we’ve fallen into a steady rhythm. Leah stirs the sauce, Chloe chops, and I cook the meat. It’s not long before the kitchen is alive with the sounds of sizzling, music, and laughter.

In fact, the longer we cook, the more the tension eases from my shoulders. Leah teases Chloe about her meticulous vegetable dicing, and Chloe playfully threatens to chop Leah’s hair next.

I find myself laughing, really laughing, for the first time in two weeks.

“Okay, taste this,” I instruct, scooping a spoonful of sauce for them.

They oblige, and the looks on their faces tell me all I need to know.

“That’s the stuff,” Leah grins.

Chloe nods. “You’ve still got it, Abby.”

…

Dinner has long since been cleared from our plates. We’re already halfway through a second bottle of wine, the sound of soft music playing in the background.

“Whew, I think I broke the seal,” Chloe giggles as she stands, her high heels discarded on the floor by now. “Be right back, ladies.”

Leah and I watch as Chloe saunters off to the bathroom for the fourth time tonight, shaking our heads. Once she’s gone, the room is silent for a moment, but it’s a comfortable sort of silence. That is, until Leah speaks.

“Heard from Karl lately?” she asks, sipping her wine casually.

I shake my head, tracing the rim of my glass with a finger. “No, and I don’t think he’d want to talk. After...well, you know.”

Leah sets her glass down with a soft clink. “I don’t, actually. ‘After’ what?”

I wince, realizing that I spilled my dirty secret thanks to the alcohol and there’s no turning back now. “Promise you won’t tell Chloe.”

“Pinky.”

I take a deep breath, my voice lowering. “We almost… on the night of the cook-off. It was a mess, Leah. I pushed him away, and he left, upset. We haven’t talked since then.”

Her expression softens as she fills in the blanks that I’ve left for her. “Abby, that’s rough.”

I laugh, the sound more bitter than I expected. “‘Rough’ is an understatement.”

Leah reaches across the sofa and grips my hand. “Tell me about it. Men… they’re about as easy to navigate as a minefield.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I don’t know, Leah. It’s like every time I get close to someone, I’m just...waiting for the other shoe to drop. And with Karl, when it did, I wasn’t surprised, just disappointed in myself.”

She squeezes my hand, the corner of her mouth lifting in a half-smile. “Disappointed because you did almost something you didn’t want to or because you knew, deep down, that you’ve been wanting it more than pretty much anything else?”

“Both, I guess.” I shrug, my gaze drifting to the grain of the wood on the coffee table. “I don’t know, it’s just… It failed the first time. Why let it fail again via a natural course when I can just ruin it all myself from the get-go, right?”

Leah’s laughter is soft. “Abby, you can’t just self-destruct every time you’re worried you might get hurt.”

I let out my own wry chuckle. “Why not? It feels safer this way.”

“Maybe.” Leah’s tone turns serious again. “But he was your sous chef for the cook-off. Does he even know that you’ve been given this chance?”

My heart hammers against my ribs. “But what if he doesn’t care? Worse, what if he’s angry if I try to reach out?”

Leah’s grip tightens around my hand, her gaze meeting mine. “You won’t know until you try. And Abby, I’ve seen the way Karl looks at you—like you’re the most important thing in the universe. Whatever happened, whatever almost happened, I don’t think that’s changed. He’d want to know.”

I’m silent, the battle raging inside me: the desire to reach out against the fear of being pushed away after everything that’s happened. “You really think he’d want to hear from me after I hurt him?”

“I do.” Leah nod vehemently. “And who knows, maybe he needs to hear from you right now just as much as you need to hear from him.”

Leah’s words make me soften a bit, as though my steely resolve is beginning to melt. Leah has always been more supportive of me and Karl, more open to the idea of us working things out. And in a way, maybe I need that kind of support right now, even if it winds up ending in disaster again.

I finally nod, taking another sip of my wine.

“So?” Leah asks.

“So.” I glance up as I hear the bathroom door click open, and shoot Leah a look. I don’t have to say it out loud, but she knows.

Tomorrow, I’ll call Karl. After all, it’s the right thing to do… Right?