Page 5 of XO Karma

What the hell is going on? he asks.

None of your business, I reply.

Squelching footsteps fill the air, my heart thumps wildly, and there’s no way my new partner in crime doesn’t feel it. Theory proven when he rests his palm firmly on the top of my chest, tips my chin to force my gaze to his, and breathes evenly, like a gentle wave. Is he… trying to calm me down?

“In,” he whispers so low it’s practically carried away with the wind. I slowly suck the crisp air into my lungs, and he mouths, Out. I exhale in a huff, attempting to reduce my heart rate, which is nearly impossible given this beautiful man is coaching me through breathing exercises rather than blowing my cover.

What is happening right now? My attention turns to the spot where I fell, expecting to see my corpse lying there, which would certainly explain the out-of-body experience I’m having right now.

A car engine roars to life, pulling me back to the land of the living. Headlights illuminate the street, tires crackle against the pavement, and the vehicle disappears around the corner. The front door slams shut, and the porch light flips off moments later. The stillness of night confirms we’re alone once more.

“Now can you tell me why we’re hiding behind a tree?” he asks, his tone full of amusement. I flex my fingers, the soft fabric of his jacket wrinkling under my touch. Realization hits me that I’m holding on to him like a life raft, and I release the material, nudging him off me.

“Nope,” I say, slipping away towards the sidewalk.

“If I’m going to be an accomplice”—his footsteps thump behind me, and my heart is in my throat—“you could at least tell me your name.”

Once we’re a house away, I pause on the sidewalk under a streetlight and turn to face him. Well, fuck me sideways. I was right. This man is a dreamboat. He’s all brooding and sharp jaw lines. Black hoodie and jeans hugging his muscular physique perfectly. “You first.”

He reaches out a hand. “I’m Aster.”

I return the gesture, quickly regretting it at the delicious feeling of his rough, calloused palm against mine. “Well, thank you for the assist, Aster.”

My eyes fall to his neck with a bit of red on it. It looks almost like… Oh my god, did I get blood on him? “And you are?” he asks, tugging me out of my spiral.

I can’t just give him my name. What if he turns me in?

Pulling back, I break our connection. “Hoping you’re not a firefighter or something because people would be screwed.”

His mouth falls open in amused disbelief. “I saved your life.”

“You dropped me!”

“That’s a technicality I’m not sure we’ll agree on.” He grins, and damn, if it doesn’t do something to my insides. “But no, I’m not a firefighter. I’m a journalist.”

My heart drops to the floor, a knot forming in my throat as a beat passes between us. “A journalist?”

“Yep.”

Suppressing the paranoia, I choke out, “What do you write about?”

“Murder and crime, mostly,” he replies casually.

“Oh. Well, that’s…” I shift in place, trying to stifle my absolute panic. “Nice.”

Blowing my cover during a request is one thing. Having it be front-page, breaking news is another. After all, discovering the identity of Cleosville’s Karma would be a hell of a scoop, and there’s no way I’m letting him get close to that story. Was he following me? Was our meeting intentional? And to think, I was already having wet daydreams about him.

He glances towards Cynthia’s house, then back to me, and an unabashed smile spreads across his face. “Are you worried I’m going to write about this?”

“Oh.” Warning bells blare. “Well, I⁠—”

“Don’t worry.” He laughs, the sound low and warm, wrapping around me like a blanket. One that will quickly turn into a noose if he outs me. “Hot blonde suspiciously falls out of a tree isn’t quite the front-page news people are looking for.”

Hot. Blonde.

Unwillingly, my lip quirks upwards as I attempt to ignore the compliment. His own grin widens, piercing green eyes assessing me. “I told you mine, now tell me yours?” he asks, brow cocked.

Biting my lip, I walk backwards to make my escape. “You’re a journalist. Figure it out.”