Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 59: Stay Away
The city lights blur past us as Karl drives, the tension in the car so thick I could slice it with a knife. My

mind is still spinning from the events of the last hour—the creepy guy on the subway, the group of

leering men, and then Karl, showing up like a storm, sweeping everything away.

My eyes shift to him for a moment, taking in his stern profile, the jaw set in a hard line. His knuckles are

white on the steering wheel. It’s clear he’s still riled up.

“Hey… Thanks for picking me up,” I finally manage to say, breaking the oppressive silence.

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s the least I could do,” he replies, his eyes never leaving the road. The

words hang in the air, laden with unspoken emotions and thoughts neither of us is willing to navigate

right now.

Soon enough, we pull up in front of my apartment building, and Karl kills the engine. We both sit there

for a moment, contemplating the space between us, both literal and metaphorical.

“Let me walk you up,” he finally says, a subtle softness creeping into his voice.

I hesitate, weighing my options, but then nod. After everything that’s happened so far tonight, some

company up to my apartment door would be appreciated.

“Okay. Thanks, Karl.”

We step out of the car, and as we walk to the building, I can’t help but notice a dark red stain on his

pristine white shirt. It’s blood. My stomach churns at the sight.

“You’re hurt,” I blurt out.

He glances down, a wry smile pulling at his lips. “Don’t worry. It’s not mine.”

Despite the churn of emotions and the image of Karl punching that guy square in the jaw flashing

through my mind, relief washes over me. “Even so, you should get that cleaned before it sets in.”

We reach my apartment door, and I unlock it, pushing it open. The familiar scent of home envelops me,

offering a much-needed sense of normality after what just happened. I gesture inside. “You could come

in for a minute. Let me clean that for you.”

The tension between us is palpable as we stand in the threshold of my apartment. For a moment, it

if we’re both teetering on the edge of something undefined and precarious, like standing

a cliff and daring to

asks, breaking the moment, his eyes scanning

meaning.

say with a soft chuckle, even though the feelings inside of me are rolling around like

get me when I really needed someone. The least I could

my

moment longer, as if weighing his

lead him inside, closing the door softly behind us. The apartment is still, the silence

footsteps as

the kitchen counter, I gesture for him to sit. “Take a seat.

soda. It should

complies, sitting down while I rummage through the cupboard under the sink for the bottle. When

clean cloth

step closer to him, the atmosphere in the room changes subtly,

I reach for his shirt, gently dabbing at the dark stain. His

of the

Adam’s apple moving as he speaks. His voice is deep and gravelly,

I

the sound of his voice, especially when he would first wake

what it would

quickly push

say. “It’s a nice shirt.

just

and my thoughts betray me, drifting to places they

his arms around me, the heat

name whispered in that deep voice. My heart starts

tonight?” I ask, my voice a little too

ground. “I noticed you left the party early tonight without saying

his eyes meeting mine for just a second before looking away.

about.”

of his answer hangs in the air, like a puzzle missing crucial pieces.

something in his expression stops me. The mood feels too fragile to probe,

risk with hard

us, punctuated only by the sounds

to his. And for an instant, I can

to close the distance between

air, the cloth now forgotten as we

that says more than words ever

to the floor, suddenly aware of how dangerously close we are to crossing lines that

complicate everything.

murmur, lowering my hand. “Wash it when you get home. It

lifts to my chin, gently but firmly turning