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

the pent-up frustration, the hours

all comes rushing to the surface

That’s it.

with barely

was standing before, only to realize that she’s

I’m now met

my apron down onto

to myself than anyone else, and storm out of the

the back door into the alley, my chest heaving. The cold

it,

fill the gaping void

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

her. For Abby. Because despite the chaos, the humiliation,

frustration of it all, I want her back in my

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

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

tell John to shove it, to tell Abby that

I can’t. Because deep down, as much as it galls me to admit it, I know that this is my last

prove that I’m not the

the cold, unforgiving wall of

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

shares my consciousness.

I murmur under my breath, trying to soothe the restless

my wolf’s voice echoes in my head, clear as day. “This John guy, he’s

your buttons on purpose. You just have to push

know, I know,” I reply silently, a conversation taking place

this, to prove I can be part of her world.

do. It’ll just be

I ask. “It feels like she’ll

question I’ve been asking myself ever since I walked out of

bigger man and tolerate John for

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

as if reading my thoughts.

putting her needs above your

its way into my mind despite my wolf’s reassurance. What if

mistakes? What if I’m forever labeled the screw-up,

who broke her heart?