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

snaps. All the pent-up frustration, the hours of

rushing to the surface

That’s it.

with barely

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

now met

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

than anyone else, and

the alley, my chest heaving. The cold night

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

fill the gaping

the hell am I doing?

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

of it all, I want her back in

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

confined I feel, boxed in by my own choices,

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

me to admit it, I

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

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

inside me. A deep growl resonates from within, not from my human side, but from the

shares my consciousness.

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

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

have to

reply silently, a conversation taking place

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

“I know you do. It’ll just be

“It feels like

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

tolerate John

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

will see,” my wolf reassures me, as if reading my thoughts. “She’ll realize

putting her needs above

into my mind

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

who broke her heart?