Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 219

Abby

On the morning of the cook-off, I’m already awake before my alarm even starts buzzing.

Last night, I hardly slept at all thanks to a combination of excitement over the cook-off and my wine-induced conversation with Karl. All night, his words swirled around my mind: “I’m really proud of you,” he had said.

Hearing Karl say those words was so unexpected, yet so heartwarming at the same time. I can’t get them out of my mind, like a lost puppy who’s found her home, or a shipwreck survivor lost at sea who has found a lifeline. It’s strange how much of an impact it has had on me.

As soon as my alarm goes off, though, I pop out of bed and thrust myself into cook-off mode. Today is not the day to be thinking about my ex-husband. Today, I need to focus on winning that cook-off, otherwise all of my efforts will have been for nothing.

After a slightly-too-hot shower, I pull my hair back into a neat and tidy bun, then get dressed. I know I’ll be asked to change into a uniform for the cook-off, so I opt for something simple: a t-shirt, jeans, and a jacket.

“Okay, Abby, this is it,” I murmur to myself, checking my reflection one last time in the mirror before I head out. “Today’s the day you show them all.”

I rush down the stairs, grabbing the go-bag that I prepared last night and heading out to the cafe down my street for a quick pick-me-up before the day begins. The bell jingles over my head as I step inside, and I’m greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods.

The barista, a sweet lady named Carol, is behind the counter.

“Morning, Abby! The usual?” she asks.

“Morning, Carol. Yes, please—black coffee, one sugar, and a croissant.”

“I hope he’s okay,” I whisper to myself, staring at the phone as if willing it to come to life. I leave a voicemail, a twinge of impatience creeping into my tone. “John, it’s Abby. I’m on my way. We have the competition today, remember? You better be up and ready, mister.”

After I hang up, I let out a deep sigh. “Maybe he’s taking a shower,” I mutter, shaking my head. John wouldn’t play hooky on me, not with something like this. He’s never been that type.

My boots click against the pavement as I approach the subway entrance, jogging down the steps and then stopping in front of the turnstile. I reach for my subway card, but just as I’m about to swipe it, my phone buzzes.

It’s John.

I stare at the screen for a beat, my heart pounding a little faster. Good, I think to myself; he’s awake after all. With a flick of my thumb, I accept the call and hold my phone to my ear, balancing my coffee in the crook of my arm as I swipe my subway card.