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 with

snaps. All the pent-up frustration, the hours of biting my

rushing to the surface like a

That’s it.

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

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

met

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

myself than anyone else, and storm

door into the alley, my chest heaving. The cold

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

fill the gaping void

the hell am I

all for her. For Abby.

of it all, I want

I stare up

reminder of how confined I feel, boxed in by my

much as I want to break free, to tell John

galls me to admit it, I know that this is my last

to prove that I’m

wall of

growl resonates from within, not from my human side, but from

shares my consciousness.

I murmur under my breath, trying to

just an a ss, Karl,” my wolf’s voice echoes in my head, clear as day. “This

pushing your buttons on purpose. You just have to push through

reply silently, a conversation taking place entirely within the confines of my

be part of her world. But I f

It’ll just be for a

I ask. “It

asking myself ever since I walked out of Abby’s office earlier today. Sure, I

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

trying, to be the man she wants me to

will see,” my wolf reassures me, as if

you’re putting her needs

the doubt creeps in, worming its way into my mind despite my wolf’s reassurance. What if

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

who broke her heart?