Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 58: Getaway Driver
I’m pacing my living room, a glass of whiskey in hand, lost in my thoughts. The night has been a

coc ktail of emotions—high spirits at the party, laughter with Abby… And then, of course, there was the

palpable tension with Chloe.

I thought I had managed to keep my feelings under wraps, maintain the casual facade. But Chloe had

to go and ruin it, filling the air with words like poison darts.

“Stay away from him,” she had whispered to Abby, not knowing that I was within earshot.

Who the hell does she think she is?

I throw myself onto the leather chair, my fingers gripping the armrests, the echo of Chloe’s words still

fresh in my mind. “Stay away from him,” she had said, as though her voice could erect a wall between

Abby and me—a wall I’m not certain even I could scale at this point.

“What is her problem?” I growl to myself, my thoughts a whirlwind of frustration.

“She clearly dislikes you,” my wolf interjects, his voice a rumbling presence in the depths of my

consciousness.

“You think I can’t see that? And it’s not the first time, either,” I retort, my mind slipping back in time, to

another party, another confrontation.

It had been a similar occasion. Friends, laughter, a lively atmosphere.

Abby had been radiant, the center of my universe. But then Chloe had started arguing with me. About

what, I can barely remember.

What I do recall is the anger, my territorial instincts flaring up, the undeniable urge to assert my

dominance. I had ended up kicking her out of the party.

The aftermath was equally vivid. Abby had been furious, her eyes ablaze with a fire I had rarely seen.

“You’re trying to ruin my friendships, Karl,” she had yelled, her voice strained with emotion. She had left

with Chloe, her best friend, her confidant. Abby hadn’t come home for two days. When she finally did,

the atmosphere between us had been colder than a winter night.

jerk to Chloe,” she’d told me, her voice heavy with disappointment when

can’t be nice to my friends,

dragging my hands down my face, the weight

ask out loud. “If I ever have a chance with Abby again, am I

around her

remarks, a touch

her. What do

I know I screwed up. And I’m working d mn hard

I snap, my voice tinged with bitterness. “But

to give me a chance

whispers, his voice softening. “She might not fully realize it yet,

you. Otherwise, she wouldn’t allow you back into her life, even in the small

has.”

the words sink in, a tiny glimmer of hope in a sea of

right. Maybe Abby does see the changes in me. And maybe, just maybe,

to rebuild

on the coffee table, ripping

Gianna, my ever-efficient

“Hello?”

next weekend,” she says without preamble. “Your

meeting. Can you come?”

The responsibilities I’ve been skirting ever since I

off any

say, gritting my teeth. “I’ll

up, feeling the weight of my double life—the life I left behind

juggling act, and sometimes I

on cue, my phone buzzes again, pulling me back

button, a sense of dread mingling with anticipation.

calling?

to keep my

me,” she stammers, her voice tinged with anxiety. “I had

lost. And—”

your location. I’m coming to get you,” I interrupt, my

by a

grab my coat and head for the door, locking my apartment with an urgency that mirrors my

car in record time, my

find myself mulling over what the hell is going on between

other like a

friend tells her to keep her distance.

of the night when she

villain in their narrative, or just a

cut short as my phone indicates that

eventually catching sight