Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 59

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 feels as if we’re both teetering on the edge of something undefined and precarious, like standing at the edge of a cliff and daring to peek over.

“Are you sure?” Karl finally asks, breaking the moment, his eyes scanning my face for some hidden meaning.

“I’m sure,” I say with a soft chuckle, even though the feelings inside of me are rolling around like a tornado. “You came to get me when I really needed someone. The least I could do is help you clean your shirt,” I reply, my voice firmer than I feel.

He hesitates just a moment longer, as if weighing his options, before nodding. “Alright. Sure.”

I lead him inside, closing the door softly behind us. The apartment is still, the silence amplifying the sound of our footsteps as we head toward the kitchen.

Pulling a stool out from under the kitchen counter, I gesture for him to sit. “Take a seat. I’ll get some club soda. It should help with the stain.”

He complies, sitting down while I rummage through the cupboard under the sink for the bottle. When I find it, I straighten up and grab a clean cloth from the drawer, dousing it in the clear liquid.

As I step closer to him, the atmosphere in the room changes subtly, becoming charged, electric. With a deep breath to steady my nerves, I reach for his shirt, gently dabbing at the dark stain. His muscles tense under my touch, a palpable reminder of the strength that lies just beneath the surface.

“Thanks for this,” he says, his Adam’s apple moving as he speaks. His voice is deep and gravelly, just the way I remember it.

I always loved the sound of his voice, especially when he would first wake up in the morning. And for a moment, just a moment, I think about what it would be like to wake up next to him again. Tomorrow morning, maybe. But I quickly push those thoughts away.