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

spits the words out, his face

All the pent-up frustration, the hours of biting my tongue,

swallowing my pride—it all comes rushing to the surface

That’s it.

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

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

bit, I’m now met with nothing but

breath, I throw my apron down onto the counter.

myself than anyone else,

alley, my chest heaving. The

pull out a cigarette and light it,

the gaping void inside

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

for her. For Abby. Because despite the chaos,

frustration of it all, I want her back

as I stare up at the sliver of

a stark reminder of how confined I feel, boxed in

to tell John to shove it, to tell Abby that this is

as much as it galls me to admit it, I

right, to prove that I’m

back against the cold, unforgiving wall of the alley,

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

shares my consciousness.

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

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

on purpose. You just have

a conversation taking place entirely within the confines of

be part of

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

I ask. “It feels like she’ll never

ever since I walked out of Abby’s office earlier today. Sure, I

tolerate

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

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

that you’re putting her needs above your

the doubt creeps in, worming its way into my mind

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

who broke her heart?