Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 62: Too Much To Ask
The door to Abby’s office swings shut behind me, and my mind races as I walk back into the kitchen.

First, she asks me to make nice with Chloe, and now this? Apprenticing under John, of all people? A

guy I can’t even stand to be in the same room with?

“Karl, grab the veal from the fridge. Now.” John’s voice snaps me back to reality, jarring and grating as

ever.

I grab the veal and set it on the counter, taking a moment to steel myself. I’m doing this for Abby, I

remind myself. As if sensing my inner turmoil, Abby glances over at me from across the kitchen.

Our eyes meet for just a second, but it’s enough. I nod subtly. I can do this.

The dinner rush starts, and the kitchen turns into a whirlwind of flying knives and sizzling pans. John

wastes no time in laying into me.

“Come on, Karl, chop those onions faster! We don’t have all day!”

My knuckles whiten around the knife handle, but I force a smile. “Sure, John, whatever you say.”

Dinner service rushes on like a torrential river, and I’m just trying to keep my head above water. Each

critique from John feels like another weight pulling me down, but I keep reminding myself why I’m here,

who I’m here for.

The clock ticks past nine, and the last orders are finally up. John looks at me, a satisfied smirk

spreading across his face. “Not a complete disaster, I suppose.”

My jaw clenches, my fists curl, but I refuse to let the torrent out. Abby’s eyes catch mine again, her

gaze searching. I look away. I can’t let her see how much this is getting to me.

And that’s when it happens. One small, insignificant straw that breaks the proverbial camel’s back.

“Karl, you idiot! These steaks are overcooked! Do you even know what medium-rare looks like?” John

spits the words out, his face flushed with

me snaps. All the pent-up frustration, the hours

my pride—it all comes rushing to the surface like a tidal

That’s it.

off, my hands shaking with barely contained fury.

that she’s gone. Where her beautiful

bit, I’m now met with nothing but a

ragged breath, I throw my apron down onto the counter. “Cook the steaks yourself,

than anyone else,

the alley, my chest heaving.

I pull out a cigarette and light it, drawing

gaping void inside

mind reeling. What the hell am I

ap—it’s all for her. For

it all, I want her back in my

slowly as I stare up at the sliver of night sky visible between the

stark reminder of how confined I feel,

tell John to shove it, to tell

as it galls me

things right, to prove that I’m not

back against the cold, unforgiving wall of

growl resonates from within, not from my

shares my consciousness.

it now?” I murmur under my breath, trying to soothe the restless animal inside

just an a ss, Karl,” my wolf’s voice echoes in my head, clear as day. “This John guy,

on purpose. You just have to push

reply silently, a conversation taking place entirely

this, to prove I can be part of her world. But I f ucking hate

snorts. “I know you do. It’ll just be for

it, though?” I ask. “It feels like she’ll

I walked out of

the bigger man and tolerate John for Abby’s sake. But

sees that I’m trying, really trying, to be the man she

if reading my

putting her needs above your

its way into my mind

see past my old mistakes? What if I’m forever labeled the screw-up, the black sheep,

who broke her heart?