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

inside me snaps. All the pent-up frustration, the hours of biting

rushing

That’s it.

yank my apron off, my hands shaking with barely contained fury. I shoot

standing before, only to realize that she’s

now met with nothing but

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

more to myself than anyone else, and storm out of

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

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

fill the gaping

lean against the brick wall, my mind reeling. What the hell am I doing?

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

all, I

slowly as I stare up at the sliver of

reminder of how confined I feel, boxed in by

I want to break free, to tell John

much as it galls me to

last chance to make things right, to prove that I’m not the same guy I used

cold, unforgiving wall of the alley,

me. A deep growl resonates from within, not from my human side, but from the wolf

shares my consciousness.

murmur under my breath, trying to soothe the

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

on purpose. You just have

a conversation

me to do this, 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 longer,

ask. “It feels like she’ll never

ever since I walked out of

neck out, be the bigger man and tolerate John

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

will see,” my wolf reassures me, as if reading my thoughts. “She’ll realize you’re making

putting her

the doubt creeps in, worming its way into my mind despite my wolf’s

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

who broke her heart?