Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 218

“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?”

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.”