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

we’re both teetering on the edge

of a cliff and daring to peek

asks, breaking the moment, his eyes

meaning.

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

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

shirt,” I reply, my voice firmer than

as if weighing his

the door softly behind us. The apartment is

of our footsteps as

I gesture for him to sit. “Take a seat. I’ll get

soda. It should help

sitting down while I rummage through the cupboard under the sink for the

up and grab a clean cloth from the drawer, dousing it in

to him, the atmosphere in the room changes subtly,

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

my touch, a palpable reminder of the strength that lies just

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

I remember

when he

just a moment, I think about what it would be like to wake up next to him

I quickly push those thoughts

a nice shirt. I’d hate to

could just

thoughts betray me, drifting to places they have no business

mind—the feel of his arms around

that deep

a little too casual as I try to steer my thoughts back

party early tonight without saying

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

about.”

of his answer hangs in the air, like a

dig deeper, but something in his expression stops me. The mood feels

risk with

us, punctuated only by the sounds of our breaths.

am to his.

to close

the cloth now forgotten as we lock eyes. It’s a moment that

silence that says more than words

suddenly aware of how dangerously close we are to crossing lines

complicate everything.

“Wash it when you get home. It should come

his hand lifts to my chin, gently but firmly turning my face to