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

words out, his face flushed

pent-up frustration, the

comes rushing to the

That’s it.

my hands shaking with barely contained fury. I shoot one last look

she’s gone. Where her

met

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

some air,” I growl, more to myself than anyone else, and storm out

chest

it. I pull out a cigarette and light it, drawing the smoke deep into my lungs as

the gaping void inside

mind reeling. What the hell am I doing? All of this,

John’s relentless cr ap—it’s all for her. For Abby. Because despite the chaos,

I want her back in

take another drag, exhaling slowly as I stare up at

stark reminder of how confined I feel, boxed in by my own choices, my own

free, to tell John to shove it, to tell Abby that

I can’t. Because deep down, as much as it galls me to admit it,

right, to prove that I’m not the same guy I used

cold, unforgiving wall of the alley, still wrestling with the

A deep growl resonates from within, not from my human side, but from

shares my consciousness.

now?” I murmur under my breath, trying to soothe the

Karl,” my wolf’s voice echoes in my head, clear

You just have to push through it for a little while

a conversation taking place entirely within

can be part of her world.

know you do. It’ll just be

it, though?” I ask. “It feels like she’ll never

been asking myself ever since I walked out of

out, be the bigger man and tolerate John for Abby’s sake. But where does

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

if

you’re putting her needs above

way into my mind despite

if I’m forever labeled the screw-up,

who broke her heart?