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,

All the pent-up frustration, the hours of biting

swallowing my pride—it all comes rushing

That’s it.

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

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

I’m now met

throw my apron down onto the counter.

more to myself than anyone else, and storm out of

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

out a cigarette and light it, drawing the smoke deep into my

gaping void

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

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

frustration of it all, I

slowly as I stare up at

how confined I feel, boxed in by my

yet, as much as I want to break free, to tell John

Because deep down, as much as it galls me

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

back against the cold, unforgiving wall of the alley, still wrestling with the storm

deep growl resonates from within, not from my human

shares my consciousness.

it now?” I murmur under my breath,

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

your buttons on purpose. You just have to

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

this, to prove I can be part of her

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

it, though?” I ask. “It

myself ever since I walked

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

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

reassures me, as if reading my thoughts. “She’ll realize you’re

you’re putting her

creeps in, worming its way into my mind despite

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

who broke her heart?