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 flushed

frustration, the hours

swallowing my pride—it all comes rushing to the surface

That’s it.

my apron off, my hands shaking with barely contained

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

met with

my apron down onto the counter.

more to myself than anyone else, and

into the alley, my chest heaving. The cold night

and light it, drawing

fill the gaping void inside

reeling. What the hell am I doing? All

For Abby. Because despite the chaos, the

I want her back in my

exhaling slowly as I stare up at the sliver of night sky visible between the

feel, boxed in by my own choices, my

as much as I want to break free, to tell John to shove it, to tell Abby that this is

deep down, as much as it galls me to admit it, I

right, to prove that I’m not

unforgiving wall of the alley,

me. A deep growl resonates from within, not

shares my consciousness.

is it now?” I murmur under my breath,

in my head, clear as

just have to push through it for

I know,” I reply silently, a conversation

be part of her world. But I f ucking

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

though?” I ask. “It feels like

I’ve been asking myself ever since I walked out

the bigger man and tolerate John for

really trying, to be the man

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

her needs above your

into

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

who broke her heart?