Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 202

Abby

“Karl! Abby! Over here!”

Karl and I exchange glances with each other before we decide to head over to the table where Ethan and Gianna are waiting. Despite Gianna’s presence, Ethan’s smile is a beacon of happiness, and I’m glad to see it.

Although Ethan was in his coma for the majority of the time that Karl and I were together, I always liked him. He was a good brother to Karl, a genuine person and a kind soul.

It was heartbreaking when he fell into his coma, and yet at the same time it was like a new chapter; Karl became the Alpha and ruled the pack in his brother’s place, and I became the Luna.

I have hope that the two brothers will be able to come to some sort of amicable conclusion about their status, and I know that it won’t end poorly between the two of them. They’re all each other has, after all.

But then there’s Gianna.

She’s like a dark stain on the night, and an even darker stain on our history. With Gianna by Ethan’s side, it also fills me with a sense of dread.

There’s no telling what she’ll do to smear Karl’s reputation through the mud, and if she’s already somehow managed to manipulate Ethan into falling in love with her, I can only imagine what she’ll be able to accomplish.

On one hand, I want to believe in the power of true love, but on the other hand… I don’t trust this. Not one bit.

Karl and I meet Gianna and Ethan at the table, where Gianna is already seated beside Ethan, her gaze averted to the drink menu in her hand. She doesn’t look up as we approach.

Karl pulls my seat out for me, and I’m grateful that he chose the seat for me that’s the furthest from Gianna. After what she did, I don’t even want to breathe the same air as her.

“Abby, I must say, I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Ethan says, his eyes flickering with amusement as he looks at me—but not in an unkind way. “I thought Karl already had a date.”

Gianna glances up, a flicker of something malicious in her eyes at this news. Karl’s jaw tightens a bit.

“My date and I decided to go our separate ways,” Karl explains vaguely, his knee bumping against mine under the table. “And so Abby and I reconnected.

“Well, I’m glad to see it,” Ethan says with a kind glint in his eyes. “And, Abby, you catered tonight, correct?” he asks.

I nod, choosing to ignore the way that Gianna rolls her eyes ever so slightly, her gaze averting back to her menu.

“I did,” I explain. “Actually, this restaurant is mine.”

Ethan’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Abby opened it after you went into your coma,” Karl explains for me. “You missed a lot, brother.”

Ethan chuckles. “I guess I did.” His attention then shifts to the foot on the buffet table. “It sure looks delicious,” he says. “And, Abby, congratulations on opening your own restaurant. That’s no small feat.”

A flush of warmth spreads across my cheeks at his compliment. “Thank you, Ethan,” I respond, feeling humbled.

Before I know it, the table is covered in a wide array of food. Ethan eats ravenously, digging through plates of rare steaks and vibrant vegetables.

“I’m so sorry to eat like such a pig,” Ethan says with a laugh. “The doctor warned me I’d eat like a horse during the healing process, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad.”

I can’t help but laughed, more flattered that he likes the food so much than anything else. “I’m thrilled that you’re enjoying it. Please, eat as much as you want.”

However, my gaze drifts to Gianna, who sits beside Ethan but hardly touches her plate. She delicately picks at her food, her demeanor distant and guarded.

It’s no different than the night that Karl threw the party at our old home, and seeing someone treat the food—which my team and I so painstakingly prepared—like it’s not even worth tasting is hurtful. The contrast between her and Ethan is striking, and I can’t help but wonder about her true intentions.

“Well, I agree with Ethan,” Karl chimes in, sensing my upset over Gianna. He holds up a forkful of glistening pasta and smiles. “This is delicious. I may need to have a second helping later.”

“Speaking of second helpings,” Ethan says, pushing his now-empty plate away, “I can see that the spinach puffs are disappearing quickly over there. I’ll be right back—”

“Allow me,” I say suddenly, standing abruptly. “I’ll get it for you.”

Ethan shoots me a concerned look. “Abby, you don’t—”

“Really,” I retort with a smile. “You should relax. Besides, I’m the caterer.”

Before Ethan has the chance to refuse, I push my chair back and walk away. Really, I just need a moment away from Gianna so I can breathe, but I won’t let them know that. As I approach the table, however, I can hear the sound of footsteps behind me. I know it’s Karl.

“Are you okay, Abby?” Karl’s voice is hushed as he brushes his fingers gently against mine, reaching for a plate of calamari on the table.

I offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Karl,” I say. “Just needed to take a moment to breathe.”

“Trying to get away from Gianna?” he asks.

I nod, knowing that there’s no point in sugarcoating it. We both glance over our shoulders to see that Gianna has shoved her untouched plate away. Ethan is reaching for it.

“Man, he sure is ravenous,” Karl says with a chuckle.

I can’t help but laugh, too. “Hey, at least one of them is enjoying the food,” I say.

Karl nods and sighs, a mixture of frustration and gratitude evident in his eyes. “I’m really sorry she’s here, Abby. I just wish we could spend one night free of drama, you know?”

Truthfully, I do know. And I want that, too; more than anything right now.

But before I can respond, a woman with two adorable children—a boy and a girl—approaches us. The little ones are beaming with innocence and joy, their mouths and tiny hands flecked with chocolate.

“Excuse me,” the mother says, flashing me a smile. “You’re Abby, correct? The caterer?”

I nod and set down the plate of spinach puffs I’m holding. “I am.”

The mother grins and looks down at her two kids. “Go ahead,” she says to them. “Tell Miss Abby what you told me.”

With bashful looks on their faces, the little kids stammer out their gratitude.

“Um, the chocolate cake is super tasty,” the little boy says, licking his lips. “Thank you for making it for us.”

“Yeah, thank you,” the little girl chimes in. “It’s detectable!”

Beside me, Karl stifles a laugh. The mother giggles, shaking her head. “She means delectable,” she corrects. “It’s her new favorite word.”

The interaction makes me grin. I crouch down in front of the kids, using a napkin to wipe a bit of chocolate from their lips. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying the cake,” I say with a smile. “I made it just for kids like you.”

With another thank-you and a flurry of chocolate and giggles, the two children walk away with their mother. I watch them go, unable to wipe the smile off of my face, like a piece of chocolate that won’t go away.

But when I meet Karl’s gaze, there’s a strange, soft look in his eyes that makes my cheeks flush red.

“What?” I ask.

He simply shakes his head. “Oh, nothing,” he says, his voice low and thick. “Nothing at all.”