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

swallowing my pride—it all comes rushing to

That’s it.

with barely contained fury. I

only to realize that she’s gone. Where her beautiful

bit, I’m now met

breath, I throw my apron down onto the counter. “Cook the steaks

to myself than anyone else, and

the back door into the alley, my chest heaving. The cold night air stings my face, but

out a cigarette and light it, drawing the

the gaping

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

her. For Abby. Because despite the

of it all, I want her back in my

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

stark reminder of how confined I 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

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

to prove that I’m not

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

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

shares my consciousness.

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

in my head, clear as day. “This John

just have to

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

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

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

I ask. “It feels like she’ll never be

been asking myself ever since I walked out of Abby’s office earlier

man and tolerate John for Abby’s sake. But where does it end?

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

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

that you’re putting her needs above

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

if I’m forever labeled the screw-up, the black

who broke her heart?