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.

her voice

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

my hands down my face, the weight of the past

to be?” I ask out loud. “If I ever have a chance

around her friends who can’t stand

touch of

What

I screwed up. And I’m working d mn hard to be a better man—to be the kind

I snap, my voice tinged with bitterness. “But it’s like no one

willing to give me

it,” my wolf whispers, his voice softening. “She might not fully realize it yet, but she

allow you back into her life, even in the small ways

has.”

the words sink in, a tiny glimmer

see the changes in me. And maybe, just

to rebuild what

the coffee table, ripping me from

my

“Hello?”

come home next weekend,” she says without preamble.

meeting. Can you come?”

skirting ever since I moved

off any

say, gritting my

my double life—the life I

constant juggling act, and sometimes I drop the

again, pulling me back to the present. This time,

green button, a sense of dread

calling?

trying to keep my voice

stammers, her voice tinged with anxiety.

lost. And—”

I’m coming to get you,” I interrupt, my heart pounding. In a second,

a primal

the door, locking my apartment

in record time, my phone

what the hell is going on between Abby

moment we’re throwing flour at each other like a couple of lovestruck

because her best friend tells her

in the middle of the night when she needs me

in their narrative, or just a casualty of

my phone indicates

sight of her standing under