Chapter 1
ROCCO
Rocco didn’t sleep. He tried to. Hell, he even lay there staring at the ceiling like he used to after a mission—counting breaths, listening to the silence, waiting for his mind to shut the hell up, but it didn’t.
Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw her.
He felt her. He remembered how she looked in that dress.
The way she leaned into him like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
The way her lips felt when she kissed him, like she wasn’t asking permission. Jesus.
He dragged a hand down his face and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
“This is a bad idea,” he muttered. But even as he said it, he didn’t believe it—not really.
Bad ideas didn’t usually feel like this.
They didn’t settle into his chest like something solid.
Something that made him feel alive. It had been a long damn time since he felt anything close to that.
He grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand, trying not to overthink what he was about to do.
He stared at the screen for a second before typing, deleting, and typing again.
He wasn’t good at this part; never had been.
Talking to her in person was one thing. He could read her.
React to her. Match her energy. But this—making conversation on a damn phone, felt like stepping into a fight blind. Still—he sent the message anyway.
You up?
The reply came quickly because Luna wasn’t the type of woman to second-guess herself or hesitate.
That was just who she was, and God, he liked it.
Their back-and-forth was easy. Too easy.
Like they’d been doing this for years instead of just falling into it over the past few weeks.
But then he said it because he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
The second he hit send, he exhaled hard, scrubbing a hand over his jaw.
“Way to go,” he muttered. “Just lay it all out there, asshole.” That’s how he’d always been—truthful to a fault.
In the field, and in life, it was all the same.
Say it, mean it, deal with whatever came after.
Still didn’t mean he wasn’t waiting for her to pull back.
He expected her to shut it down or to remind him that this was a mistake.
Instead, she texted him something that made his lips twitch.
That’s dangerous, Rocco.
Yeah, it was a dangerous game that they were playing, but not in a way that made him want to stop. If anything, it made him want to push harder. So he gave it to her straight again.
Yeah. It is.
Then he stared at the screen, his thumb hovering.
He could feel it—this moment sitting right on the edge of something bigger.
She had the power to end it, and he knew she would if she thought it was the right call.
That was who Luna was—strong, controlled, and smart enough to know when to walk away. So he gave her the out.
Tell me to stop and I will.
And he meant that—every word of it. He wasn’t going to chase her if she didn’t want this. He wouldn’t push her into something she’d regret. He’d walk away. Sure, he wouldn’t like it, but he’d do it, because she mattered more than whatever this thing between them was turning into.
The silence stretched, and seconds ticked by slower than they should have. His jaw tightened, and his chest felt too damn tight. But then, her reply came through.
I’m not telling you to stop.
Rocco leaned back against the headboard, exhaling slowly. Yeah, that did something to him. His grip on the phone loosened just enough that he didn’t feel like he was bracing for impact anymore. Instead, he felt steady and grounded. Her message was simple, but it said everything he needed it to.
He dropped his phone onto the bed beside him and stared out into the dark room.
“This isn’t casual,” he said out loud, because it wasn’t.
Not for him. He didn’t do casual, and he didn’t do things halfway.
If he stepped into something, he stepped all the way.
And Luna—she wasn’t the kind of woman you dipped your toe in with.
She was the kind who dragged you under and made you want to stay there.
His jaw flexed as he pushed to his feet, pacing the small space.
There was something else sitting under all of it, though, something he couldn’t ignore.
She knew him. She didn’t know everything—but she knew enough.
More than anyone else in his life right now.
She’d seen the worst parts of him—the guilt and the anger.
She saw the shit that he didn’t let anyone else know about, and she still looked at him like he was something worth wanting, and that messed with his head more than anything else because he wasn’t used to that.
He wasn’t used to someone seeing the cracks in him and not walking away.
“You better not screw this up,” he muttered to himself, because for the first time in a long time, he had something he didn’t want to lose.
And that scared the hell out of him, but it didn’t make him back off, and it didn’t make him hesitate.
If anything, it locked something in place deep inside of him.
The decision had been made, the line had been crossed.
Rocco grabbed his phone again, staring at her name for a second before typing.
I want to see you again.
He’d never been one to play games. He didn’t want to wait to see her again, because if there was one thing he knew, it was that he wasn’t about to let this fade into nothing. Not without a fight.
Rocco stared at his phone after sending the text.
I want to see you again.
His message was straight to the point—no bullshit, no games.
That was just who he was. Still, his stomach twisted waiting for her reply, which was ridiculous considering he’d spent years getting shot at without blinking.
Apparently, one tiny brunette therapist with a smart mouth and a killer right hook was more terrifying than combat.
Luna: That’s good, because I was planning on seeing you again anyway.
A slow grin pulled at his mouth before he could stop it. Jesus, the woman really did think she ran the world, and the fucked up part was that he liked it—maybe too much. Another message came through before he could answer.
Luna: Tomorrow night. My gym. Seven o’clock.
He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. There she was—bossy as hell. He couldn’t help but text her back.
Rocco: We go to the same gym. You asking me out again?
Three dots appeared, and he felt like he was holding his breath, waiting for her to reply.
Luna: No. I’m telling you where I’ll be, in case you’re interested.
His grin widened. Yeah, she was definitely too much, and he was definitely interested.
He tossed the phone onto the bed and dragged both hands down his face, still smiling like an idiot.
Tony and Luca would never let him live this shit down if they saw him right now.
That thought had him grabbing his keys and heading out before he could overthink things.
Sleep clearly wasn’t happening tonight, so he might as well hit the gym.
He got to the gym just before dawn and found it mostly empty. A few night owls worked the bags in the corner, music playing low through the speakers while sweat and leather filled the air. This place felt like home to him. At least, it felt more like home than anywhere else had in a long damn time.
Rocco wrapped his hands slowly, his mind still stuck on Luna and that kiss on her front porch. He thought about her mouth against his, and the way she looked at him like she saw every ugly part of him and didn’t scare easily.
That was new, because most people either pitied him after hearing about his platoon or avoided the subject entirely.
Luna never did either. She just saw him, and somehow still wanted him, and that was the dangerous part.
It wasn’t the attraction or chemistry that was obviously between the two of them.
It was the fact that she was getting under his skin in a way nobody had in years.
“Jesus,” he muttered, stepping into the ring. He needed to hit something—badly.
Rocco went hard on the heavy bag, sweat dripping down his spine as he lost himself in the rhythm of it.
Punch, pivot, hook. He kept his elbow tucked and remembered to breathe.
He went again, harder each time until his knuckles burned through the wraps, but he welcomed the pain.
It was what Jonesy had taught him when he started at the gym—to work through the pain.
The pain grounded him. Hell, the pain made sense to him, but feelings—not so much.
“You’re gonna break the damn thing.” Rocco turned at the familiar voice and found Tony leaning against the ropes, coffee in one hand and amusement all over his face.
“Thought you couldn’t work out because you were staying home tonight with the wife,” Rocco said, grabbing a towel.
Tony shrugged. “She went to bed early, and I wasn’t tired.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “You look weird.”
“Thanks,” Rocco said.
“No, seriously,” Tony said, climbing into the ring. “You’re smiling.”
Rocco immediately scowled. “No, I’m not.”
“Bullshit.” Tony pointed at him. “That’s the face people make after they get laid.”
Rocco snorted. “I didn’t get laid.”
“Yet,” Tony corrected. Rocco threw the towel at his head, and Tony caught it easily, laughing. “So the therapist thing is actually happening?”
“She’s not my therapist anymore,” Rocco said.
“It’s all still weird,” Tony insisted.
“Didn’t ask for your opinion,” Rocco grumbled.
Tony smirked. “You like her.” Rocco stayed quiet. That alone was enough of an answer. Tony’s expression shifted slightly then, less teasing and more serious. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
The question landed harder than Rocco expected because he had no clue if he was ready or not for a relationship.
Hell, half the time he still felt like he was figuring out how to be normal again.
But Luna made him want things again that he hadn’t wanted in a damn long time—namely, a future.
Some damn peace to go along with it would be nice to.
He wanted something beyond surviving day to day.
“Don’t know,” he admitted finally.
Tony nodded slowly like he respected his honesty. “But?” he pressed.
Rocco leaned against the ropes, staring out across the gym. “But when I’m with her—” He exhaled roughly. “Everything in my head gets quiet for a little while.”
Tony went silent at that, because he understood exactly what Rocco meant. The noise, the memories, the guilt, and the constant pressure sitting in his chest. If Luna could silence that even temporarily, then yeah, he was ready for it—for her.
“Just don’t make her your whole world,” Tony said quietly. “That’s too much pressure to put on one person.” Rocco’s jaw tightened because the fucked up part was that Luna had already said almost the exact same thing. I don’t want to be your crutch, Rocco.
“She won’t be,” he said firmly.
Tony studied him for a second before nodding. “Good.” The gym fell quiet between them for a moment before Tony smirked again. “So, you finally gonna spar with her?”
Rocco groaned. “Absolutely not.”
Tony burst out laughing. “What are you afraid of?” he asked.
Rocco grabbed his water bottle and shook his head. “You didn’t see her drop Van.”
“I did see it,” Tony shot back. “That’s why I’m asking.” A reluctant grin pulled at Rocco’s mouth. Yeah, Luna was terrifying. She was beautiful, sure. Bossy, absolutely. But she was also complicated as hell, and somehow, he couldn’t wait to see her again.