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

out, his face flushed

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

swallowing my pride—it all comes rushing to the surface like a tidal

That’s it.

apron off, my hands shaking with barely

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

bit, I’m now met with nothing but a blank

down onto

to myself than anyone else, and

through the back door into the alley, my chest

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

the gaping void inside

my mind reeling. What the hell am

cr ap—it’s all for her. For Abby. Because despite the chaos, the humiliation,

all, I want her back

slowly as I stare up at the sliver of night

stark reminder of how confined I feel, boxed in by

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

it galls me to

to make things right, to prove that I’m not the same

cold, unforgiving wall of the alley, still wrestling

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

shares my consciousness.

under my breath, trying to soothe the restless

my wolf’s voice echoes in my head, clear as day. “This

purpose. You just have to

reply silently, a conversation taking place entirely

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

do. It’ll just be

it, though?” I ask. “It feels like she’ll never

I walked out of Abby’s

bigger man and tolerate

trying, really trying, to be

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

you’re putting her needs above your

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

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

who broke her heart?