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

spits the words out, his face flushed

frustration, the hours

my pride—it all comes rushing to the

That’s it.

barely contained fury. I

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

now met with nothing but

ragged breath, I throw my apron down onto

I growl, more to myself than anyone else, and storm out of the

push through the back door into the alley, my chest heaving. The cold night

it, drawing the

fill the gaping void inside

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

for her. For

all, I want

another drag, exhaling slowly as I stare up

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

yet, as much as I want to break free, to tell John

I can’t. Because deep down, as much as it galls me to admit

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

cold, unforgiving wall of the

inside me. A deep growl resonates from within, not from

shares my consciousness.

it now?” I murmur under my breath, trying to

voice echoes in my head, clear as day. “This John guy,

on purpose. You just have to push through it for a

silently, a conversation taking place entirely within

be part of her world. But I f

you do. It’ll just be for a

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

I’ve been asking myself ever since I walked out

and tolerate John for Abby’s

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

will see,” my wolf reassures me, as if reading

that you’re putting her needs above

way into

if I’m forever labeled

who broke her heart?