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

can’t be nice to my friends, then don’t expect any affection

dragging my hands down my face, the weight of the past

“If I ever have a chance with Abby again,

around her friends

a touch of reproach in his tone. “You

What do

And I’m working d mn hard to be a better

I snap, my voice tinged with bitterness. “But it’s like

me a chance to

my wolf whispers, his voice softening. “She

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

has.”

in, a tiny glimmer

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

to rebuild what

then, my phone buzzes on the coffee table, ripping me from my

my ever-efficient

“Hello?”

come home next weekend,” she says without preamble. “Your

meeting. Can you come?”

ever since I moved to the city. I

it off any

my teeth.

feeling the weight of my double life—the life

juggling act, and sometimes I drop the

cue, my phone buzzes again, pulling me back to

dread mingling with anticipation. It’s late.

calling?

answer, trying to

it’s… It’s me,” she stammers, her voice tinged with anxiety. “I had to get off the subway. I’m a

lost. And—”

I interrupt, my heart pounding. In

evaporate, replaced by a primal

coat and head for the door, locking my apartment

I’m in my car in record time, my phone

drive, I find myself mulling over what the

each other like a couple of lovestruck teens, and the

life because her best friend tells her to keep her distance.

the night when she needs me

narrative, or

as my phone indicates that I’m nearing

lit streets, eventually catching sight of her standing under