Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

#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

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.

“It’s nothing,” I say. “It’s a nice shirt. I’d hate to see it get ruined.”

Karl smirks. “I could just buy another. But thanks.”

We’re close, too close, and my thoughts betray me, drifting to places they have no business going.

Memories flicker through my mind—the feel of his arms around me, the heat of his lips, the sound of

my name whispered in that deep voice. My heart starts to race.

“So, where’d you go tonight?” I ask, my voice a little too casual as I try to steer my thoughts back to

safer ground. “I noticed you left the party early tonight without saying goodbye. Everything alright?”

He hesitates, his eyes meeting mine for just a second before looking away. “I had some things to think

about.”

The vagueness of his answer hangs in the air, like a puzzle missing crucial pieces. I want to press him,

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

volatile to risk with hard questions.

There’s a heavy silence between us, punctuated only by the sounds of our breaths. His sounds husky,

like he’s just as affected by my closeness as I am to his. And for an instant, I can feel my wolf stir,

urging me to close the distance between us.

My hand hovers in the air, the cloth now forgotten as we lock eyes. It’s a moment that stretches on, a

weighty silence that says more than words ever could.

My eyes drop to the floor, suddenly aware of how dangerously close we are to crossing lines that might

complicate everything.

“All done,” I murmur, lowering my hand. “Wash it when you get home. It should come out.”

But before I can step back, his hand lifts to my chin, gently but firmly turning my face to meet his gaze.

“Do you really want to stay away from me?” he asks abruptly. The words land like a soft blow, leaving

me breathless. All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“What?” I murmur.

Karl sighs, his hand lingering on my chin for another moment just before he drops it to his side. “Chloe,”

he says quietly. “I heard what she said to you tonight.”

My mind races for a moment before I finally recall what Chloe had said: that I need to stay away from

Karl. At this point, I can’t tell whether she was right or wrong.

“Look,” I say, taking a step back, “what Chloe says has nothing to do with my actions. I can make my

own decisions.”

Karl’s face darkens, giving him that distinctly ‘Alpha’ aura that can both turn me on and intimidate me at

the same time. “But I think she speaks for everyone, doesn’t she?” he asks. “She has been your friend

for years, you know.”

“I just told you that I can make my own decisions, Karl.”

“You always do,” he counters, his eyes piercing into mine, reminding me of past decisions that had

driven wedges between us. “But let’s face it, I’ve never given Chloe or your other friends a good

impression, have I?”

The truth of his words sting, because they’re accurate. “Well, maybe you should work on remedying

that.”

“Ah, so I should change to suit your circle of friends?” he retorts, his voice tinged with bitterness. He

stands up from the bar stool, towering over me for a moment before brushing past me and heading

toward the door.

“That’s not what I said,” I snap, exasperated. Why is he always like this? “But if you expect us to ever

be on good terms, let alone together, you should be willing to get along with my friends.”

He grumbles, clearly not thrilled by the suggestion, and stops with his hand on the doorknob. “You’re

welcome, by the way. For saving you from the bad part of town.”

Before I can say anything, Karl flings open the door and steps out. I can only watch as the door slams

shut behind him and his footsteps recede into the distance.