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 face flushed

All the pent-up frustration, the

rushing

That’s it.

my apron off, my hands shaking with barely contained fury. I shoot one last

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

I’m now met

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

to myself than anyone

into the alley, my chest heaving.

out a cigarette and light it, drawing the smoke deep into my lungs as if it

gaping void inside

What the hell am I doing? All of this,

cr ap—it’s all for her. For

of it all, I want her back in my

slowly as I stare up at the sliver of

a stark reminder of how confined I feel, boxed in by

I want to break free, to tell John to shove it, to

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

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

of the alley, still wrestling with

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

shares my consciousness.

under my breath, trying

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

have to push through it for a

a conversation taking place entirely within the confines

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

do. It’ll just be for a while

I ask. “It feels like she’ll never

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

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

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

reassures me, as if reading my thoughts. “She’ll realize

putting her needs

in, worming its way into my

if I’m forever labeled the

who broke her heart?