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

the words out,

frustration,

pride—it all comes rushing to the

That’s it.

apron off, my hands shaking with barely contained

she’s gone. Where

I’m now met with

apron down onto the

than anyone else, and

into the alley, my chest heaving. The cold night

light it, drawing the smoke deep into my lungs as if

fill the gaping void

the brick wall, my mind reeling. What the hell am I

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

all, I

another drag, exhaling slowly as I stare up

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

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

me to admit it, I know that this is my

to prove that I’m not the same

lean back against the cold, unforgiving wall of the alley,

not from my human side,

shares my consciousness.

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

ss, Karl,” my wolf’s voice echoes in my head, clear

purpose. You just have to

a conversation taking place

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

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

I ask. “It feels

since I walked out of Abby’s office

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

sees that I’m trying, really trying, to be the man

if reading my thoughts.

that you’re putting her needs above

the doubt creeps in, worming its way into my mind despite my

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

who broke her heart?