Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

#Chapter 33: The Aftermath

Abby

Karl walks into the kitchen, and I force myself not to look at him as he strides over. I’m almost done

prepping food for the line cooks, and I don’t have time to get into it with him. There’s only so much

stress one person can handle before they go crazy, and I’m reaching my limit.

We’re booked out again, and one of my waiters called in sick, making us even more understaffed than

usual. If not, I probably would have told Karl to just go home. I need to repost my ad sometime soon.

There must be people out there who want to work in the kitchen, even as a dishwasher. I don’t know if I

can keep working with him after everything.

He stops at my station and hovers for a moment. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. I slide

the pile of carrots off the edge of the blade and give him an arch look. “What do you want, Karl?” “Can

we talk for a moment?”

“No. I’m busy.” I don't have time to deal with Karl and his bullshit.

“We can talk here if it’s easier,” he says.

He knows that’s not going to happen. John is standing two feet away, not to mention Daisy and Freddy

chatting in the corner with Jack. The last thing I need is for everyone to find out we used to be married,

or that Karl is an Alpha.

“Fine,” I snap, putting down the knife. “But I don’t have a lot of time.”

He follows me into my office, closing the door behind him. I turn to face him and cross my arms over

my chest. I can’t imagine what he plans to accomplish in the next few minutes. Continuing our

argument from last night isn’t going to get him anywhere.

He must read those thoughts on my face because he puts his hands up. “I don’t want to argue, Abby. I

just want to talk.”“I have nothing to say to you.”

He takes a step forward but stops when I narrow my eyes. “Please, Abby. You have to know I didn’t

mean to hurt you.”

“Well, if you didn’t mean to, then it must be alright.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, looking slightly flustered. It’s probably the first time I’ve seen him

like this, but I’m too angry to care.

“I can’t believe you didn’t even trust me enough to talk to me about it,” I say.

“Abby–”

I cut him off before he can continue. If he’s going to force me to talk, then I might as well get this off my

chest. “I trusted you. I never would have done something like that to you, but you were so quick to

believe it, anyway. How could you?” My voice breaks a little at the end, and I close my mouth before I

get myself into any more trouble. I don’t want him to know how much he’s hurt me.

A sorrowful expression crosses his face, and he takes a step closer. “I never wanted to hurt you.” “But

you did,” I say softly.

He visibly winces. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” It’s maybe the first time he’s ever really apologized to me for anything, but it doesn’t

change what happened between us. “I’m sorry I ever trusted you in the first place.”

He crosses the distance between us, forcing himself into my space. I take a step back, but there’s

nowhere to go. “Don’t say that!” he growls.

He’s so close to me, I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. I clench my jaw and refuse to look at him.

“Just leave me alone, Karl. You’re only making things worse.”

“Abby–”

“I hate you.” I mostly say it because of how he reacted last night. I know it’s the one thing that’ll hurt

him the most. But honestly, I’m not sure if it’s really what I want to say. What do I want to say? I don’t

know. All I know is that I’m angry, and hurt, and I feel betrayed and disgusted. Maybe I do hate him, at

least a little.

He wraps his broad hands around my arms before I have the chance to slip away. “Look at me,” he

growls. The pure command in his voice makes my spine straighten. I don’t want it to, but his command

is impossible to ignore. I might hate it, but he’s still the Alpha.

I lift my chin and meet his piercing gaze. He squeezes my arms, not enough to hurt, but enough to get

my attention.

“I get that you’re angry,” he says. “You can be as mad at me as you want. I know I deserve it.” His voice

lowers, and he leans in. If I move even slightly, my lips will brush his. I hold myself still, forcing down

the thought that maybe I wouldn’t mind if they did.

“Yes, you do,” I say.

“Say whatever you want. Be angry for as long as you want. But don’t ever say that you hate me.” He

presses his forehead to mine, and I tense even further. “Please, don’t.”

I could force him to move, but something stops me. The sort of something I’ll have to question later

when I can think straight again. I squeeze my eyes shut, and a tear slips free.

“Karl, I…”

Suddenly, there’s a loud knock on the door behind us. Karl pulls away, turning from me. I wipe the back

of my hand across my cheek and look up at the door.

“Yes?” I call.

“Abby, your fiancé is asking for you,” Freddy answers.

I give Karl one last look, but he can’t seem to meet my gaze.

…

Adam pulls into a parking space and shuts off his car.

“So,” he eventually says, breaking the tense silence. “We should talk about what happened the other

night.”

I fiddle with the strap of my purse, not wanting to meet his gaze. Especially not after what happened

with Karl earlier. “Yeah, we should.”

Somehow, this is even more awkward than the first time we had this conversion. I didn’t realize when I

decided to be honest that it would snowball into this major thing. Maybe I never should have brought it

up. After everything that’s gone down with Karl, I’m even more certain that Adam is a good choice for

me. I just hope I haven’t ruined everything.

“For starters, I’m sorry for taking off like that. It was an immature thing to do,” he says. I nod slowly. Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Now that I’ve calmed down, I realize maybe I overreacted. I think you just hit on a sensitive area for

me.”

I turn to face him for the first time. He gives me a sideways glance but looks away when he catches me

staring at him. His cheeks are slightly red, and he’s tapping his fingers along his leg in a furious rhythm.

“Sensitive in what way?”

“When my ex-girlfriend broke up with me, she told me it was because I was boring in bed. It really

made me feel like shit, you know? So, when you asked if we lack passion, it kind of reminded me of

that. I thought you were about to do the same thing.”

“I wasn’t going to break up with you,” I say, placing a hand on his arm. I can't help but feel a little guilty.

The last thing I wanted to do was hurt his feelings. “I wasn’t putting the blame on you or anything. I just

wanted to talk about it.”

“About the fact that we have no passion in our relationship?” he asks, shrugging off my hand.

I wrap my arms around my stomach and lean slightly away from him. So far, this isn’t going well, but

how was I supposed to know he’d be extra sensitive? He never told me why he and his last girlfriend

broke up.

“I never said ‘no passion.’ We definitely have passion.”

“Right.”

“No, we do. Definitely. Dancing the other night was really hot.”

He gives me a look.

“It’s not that we don’t have any passion. It’s just that things aren’t very spontaneous, and we don’t have

sex as much as we did when we first got together. It just feels a little early for things to be slowing down

between us.”

“Yeah, maybe. I noticed that we’ve both been busy recently, but it didn’t seem like too big of a deal to

me,” he says.

There’s a silence between us, one that’s punctuated only by the sound of the crickets outside. We’re

parked in an empty parking lot behind the restaurant, two cups of soda and a bag of fast food fries

sitting between us. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine, but Adam knows how much I secretly love fast food

fries. There’s something about the uncanny umami and greasiness of them that makes me crave them

when I’m in a bad mood, and Adam brought them here tonight as a peace offering.

“I love you, Adam,” I murmur, although even as I utter the words, they feel strangely foreign on my

tongue. It’s like I want to spit them out like a bad texture.

Adam says nothing for a few minutes.

“Come here,” he says finally.

I glance over at him, giving him a sideways look. The car is cramped, but he’s serious. I watch as he

unbuckles his seatbelt and holds his arms out for me, gesturing for me to come. Without another word,

I climb onto his lap.

“Abby,” he breathes, his hand running down my side. A tingle runs across my spine, drawing me closer

to him. His body is warm, familiar, inviting. This is what I needed, I think. Greasy fries, a cramped car,

and apologies. This is all I wanted.

“Mm,” I murmur, sucking at the skin on his neck.

“Abby, wait.”

I sit up and give him a curious look. “What’s up?”

He inclines his head, and I follow his gaze outside. Karl is standing on the sidewalk, his hands in the

pockets of his leather jacket.

He turns his head but doesn’t walk away.