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 with

All the pent-up frustration, the hours of

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

That’s it.

hands shaking with barely contained fury. I

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

met with nothing but a blank

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

to myself than anyone else, and storm out

my chest heaving. The cold night air stings my

out a cigarette and light it, drawing the smoke deep into

the gaping void

lean against the brick wall, my mind reeling. What the hell

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

frustration of it all, I want her back in my

slowly as I stare up at the sliver of night sky visible between

feel, boxed in by my own choices, my own

to tell John to shove

galls me to

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

cold, unforgiving wall of the alley, still wrestling with the storm

not from my human

shares my consciousness.

murmur under my breath, trying to soothe

just an a ss, Karl,” my wolf’s voice echoes in my head,

purpose. You just have to push through

a conversation taking place entirely within

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

It’ll just be for a

“It feels like she’ll never

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

be the bigger man and tolerate

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

if

putting her

way into my mind despite

see past my old mistakes? What if I’m forever

who broke her heart?