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

out, his face flushed

me snaps. All the pent-up frustration,

swallowing my pride—it all comes rushing to the

That’s it.

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

standing before, only to realize that she’s gone. Where her beautiful face

met

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

some air,” I growl, more to myself than anyone

through the back door into the alley, my chest heaving. The cold night air stings my face,

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

the gaping

the brick wall, my mind reeling. What the

for her. For Abby.

frustration of it all, I want her

exhaling slowly as I stare up at

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

John to shove it, to tell Abby that this

as much as it galls me to admit it,

that I’m not the same guy I used

the cold, unforgiving wall of the

inside me. A deep growl resonates from within, not from my human side,

shares my consciousness.

breath, trying to soothe the restless animal inside

a ss, Karl,” my wolf’s voice echoes in my head,

buttons on purpose. You just have to

reply silently, a conversation taking place entirely within the confines of my

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

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

I ask. “It

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

bigger man and tolerate John for Abby’s

trying, really trying, to be

reassures me, as if reading

that you’re putting her needs

way into

I’m forever labeled the screw-up, the black

who broke her heart?