Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

“Abby? What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be at the studio?” I ask, blinking in
confusion. Did I sleep through the whole day or something? Did I miss the cookoff?
She pushes past me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe like a worried
mother as she makes her way into my apartment. “Karl, you’re not sick, are
you? Please, for the love of god, tell me you’re not sick.”
I close the door behind her, my brows knitting in confusion. “Sick? No, I’m just a
bit hungover, but other than that, I’m fine. Why? What are you doing here?”
“You’re sure you’re not sick?” Abby presses, leaning in, her eyes still wide but
now tinged with a sliver of hope.
Enter title...
I throw my hands up in the air. “Would I lie about that? No, I’m not sick, just
hungover, Abby. Now will you tell me why you’re here looking like the world’s
about to end when you’re supposed to be heading to the competition?”
She sighs, the tension leaving her shoulders, but only for a second. “Karl, both
John and Anton have food poisoning. They can’t even stand, let alone be my

sous chefs for the cook-off today!”
I stare at her, my eyes wide with shock. “Food poisoning? From where?”
“Most likely from that seafood dish we had at the party last night,” Abby
responds, her voice tinged with a mix of worry and annoyance. “You didn’t eat it,
did you?”
I shake my head. I don’t like seafood very much, so I avoided it.
Abby huffs. “Can you believe it? Of all the days for something like this to
happen!”
I look at her, then glance over at my reflection in the mirror hanging on my wall. I
look like a disheveled mess, not at all like the Alpha I’m supposed to be. “What
can I do, Abby?” I find myself asking, my gaze sliding back to her.
Abby looks me dead in the eyes, her gaze piercing. “I need a sous chef, Karl.
And you’re the only one I can think of who might be able to help me out. So,
please, will you be my sous chef today?”
#Chapter 136: A Hasty Replacement

Abby
Karl’s eyes go wide as I drop my bomb on him.
“So, please, will you be my sous chef today?” I ask, the question hanging in the
air.
There’s a long moment of silence, filled only by the sound of my heart pounding
out of my chest, before Karl finally speaks.
“No. Absolutely not. I’m sorry, Abby.”
My jaw drops. All at once, I feel like I’m about to scream and cry and throw up.
Karl was my last viable option. I can’t show up to the competition without a sous
chef, and I can’t pull out of the competition, either.
“But... Why?” I ask, my voice trembling.
Karl sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Look, Abby, I really would love to,
but... I just can’t. I’m not suitable in the kitchen, not like that. I’d just ruin your
chances of winning.”

He grimaces, crossing his arms. “It’s not about being good at things, Abby. It’s
about being good at the right things. I don’t think I’d be any help to you in the
kitchen, especially not to that capacity.”
“But, Karl, I’m desperate here. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. You know
how much this competition means to me.” My eyes plead with him, taking in the
stubble on his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes.
I flinch at his words, but then come up with an idea. “Okay, so put on a disguise!
Wear a hat, sunglasses, whatever it takes! Wear that blue surgical mask again,
just like you did yesterday!” Cotent of
He snorts. “A disguise? Really, Abby? You want me to wear a disguise on live
television?”
“You’re missing the point,” I snap, my hands clenched in frustration. “Trust me,
we could make it work. I need you.”