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

the pent-up frustration, the hours of

my pride—it all comes rushing to the surface like

That’s it.

barely contained fury.

realize that she’s gone. Where her beautiful face would have

bit, I’m now met with nothing

ragged breath, I throw my apron down

air,” I growl, more to myself than anyone else,

chest heaving. The cold night air

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

fill the gaping

my mind reeling. What the hell am

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

it all, I want her back

stare up at the sliver of

confined I feel, boxed in by

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

as much as it galls me to admit it, I know that this

that

of the alley, still wrestling

inside me. A deep growl resonates from within, not from my human side,

shares my consciousness.

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

echoes in my head, clear as day. “This

You just have to push through it for a little

a conversation taking place entirely within

I can be part

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

I ask. “It feels like

myself ever since I walked

my neck out, be the bigger man and tolerate John for

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

as if reading my thoughts. “She’ll realize you’re making

putting her needs above your

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

old mistakes? What if I’m forever labeled

who broke her heart?