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, his face flushed with

the pent-up frustration, the hours

all comes rushing to the

That’s it.

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

only to realize that she’s gone.

now met with

throw my apron down onto the counter.

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

the back door into the alley, my chest heaving. The cold night air stings my face, but

out a cigarette and light it, drawing the smoke

gaping

reeling. What the hell am

all for her. For Abby. Because

of it all, I want

take another drag, exhaling slowly as I stare up at the sliver of night sky visible between the

stark reminder of how confined I feel,

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

much as it galls me to admit it, I know

make things right, to prove that

cold, unforgiving wall of

within, not from my human

shares my consciousness.

now?” I murmur under my breath, trying to

my wolf’s voice echoes in my head, clear

buttons on purpose. You just have to push through

reply silently, a conversation taking place entirely

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

know you do. It’ll just be for

ask. “It feels

I’ve been asking myself ever since I walked out of Abby’s

man and tolerate John for Abby’s

until Abby sees that I’m trying, really trying, to be

if reading my thoughts. “She’ll realize you’re making

putting her needs

in, worming its way into my

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

who broke her heart?