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

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

all comes rushing to

That’s it.

shaking with barely contained fury. I shoot

was standing before, only to realize that she’s

bit, I’m now met with nothing but

I throw my apron down onto the counter. “Cook

some air,” I growl, more to myself than anyone else, and storm out of

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

out a cigarette and light it,

fill the gaping

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

all for her. For Abby.

frustration of it all, I want her back

take another drag, exhaling slowly as I stare up at the sliver of night sky visible

a stark reminder of how confined I feel, boxed

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

it galls me to admit it, I know

prove that I’m not the same guy I used to

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

growl resonates from within, not

shares my consciousness.

is it now?” I murmur under my breath, trying to soothe the restless animal inside

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

pushing your buttons on purpose. You just have

silently, a conversation

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

know you do. It’ll just be for a while longer,

ask. “It feels like she’ll

a question I’ve been asking myself ever since I walked

my neck out, be the bigger man and tolerate John for Abby’s sake. But where does it

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

me, as if

putting her needs above

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

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

who broke her heart?