Chapter 3
ROCCO
Rocco knew he was screwed the second Luna laughed against his chest instead of pushing him away.
Because that sound—that soft, breathless laugh hit him harder than any punch he’d ever taken.
His arm was still wrapped around her waist, her body pressed tight against him, and both of them were breathing a little too hard for people who were supposedly sparring.
“You cheated,” she accused, though there wasn’t much heat behind it.
Rocco smirked slightly. “You walked right into it,” he breathed.
“Excuse me, I was winning,” she insisted.
“You landed one punch,” he said.
“Yeah, but it was a good punch,” she countered. He chuckled, and her eyes narrowed like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to kiss him again or hit him. Maybe both, and honestly, he’d take either at this point.
“Are you going to let me go?” she asked softly.
“Nope,” he whispered. Her brows lifted. Luna shook her head, but she wasn’t fighting him.
If anything, she leaned into him a little more, her gloved hands flattening against his chest. That tiny movement nearly wrecked his concentration completely.
Jesus Christ. Everything about her affected him—the smell of her shampoo, the heat of her body, and even the smug little smile she wore whenever she knew she was getting to him. Which was often—too often.
“You’re staring again,” she murmured.
“Can you blame me?” he asked.
“A little,” she breathed. His gaze dropped to her mouth before he could stop himself, which was a big mistake, because Luna noticed everything.
Her lips curved slightly. “There he is.”
Rocco frowned. “Who?”
“The guy who keeps looking at me like he wants to throw me over his shoulder like a caveman,” she whispered so that no one else could hear her. His jaw flexed hard enough to ache because she wasn’t exactly wrong.
The gym suddenly felt way too warm and way too crowded, and the way she was looking at him wasn’t helping—not even a little. “You like pushing me, don’t you?” he asked quietly.
“Very much,” she said with a nod and a smile. That earned her a low laugh from him.
“That’s a dangerous game to be playing with me, Luna,” he said.
“Says the former soldier who boxes to relax,” she teased. That was a fair point. Luna slowly pulled herself out of his hold, though her gloved hands dragged along his chest as she stepped back. He could tell that was intentional. She was teasing him. The woman was a menace.
“Come on,” she said, bouncing lightly on her feet again. “Focus.”
Rocco ran a gloved hand over his jaw and shook his head. “You are the opposite of helpful.”
“Yet somehow you keep showing up for our little dates,” she pointed out. Yeah, he did, because staying away from her wasn’t an option anymore. That truth settled heavily in his chest as they started moving around each other again.
This time, the sparring felt different—less playful and more intimate somehow.
Every touch lingered. Every blocked punch turned into accidental contact that neither of them seemed eager to break.
Rocco caught her wrist again after another jab, instinctively pulling her closer, and Luna’s eyes flashed.
“There you go again,” she whispered.
“What?” he asked, knowing exactly what she was referring to.
“Touching me like you forgot we’re in public,” she breathed. His grip tightened slightly before he forced himself to let go of her.
“Is that bothering you?” he asked. “Are you finding it hard to focus?”
“No,” she admitted immediately. “That’s the problem.” His chest tightened at the honesty in her voice. God, he wasn’t used to this. Rocco wasn’t used to wanting someone this fast, or this hard. And he damn sure wasn’t used to someone wanting him back just as much.
The gym around them faded further into background noise until it felt like they were the only two people in the room.
Luna came at him again, faster this time, and Rocco blocked automatically.
She swept her leg out suddenly, knocking him off balance enough that he stumbled backward against the ropes.
A triumphant grin spread across her face.
“I knew it,” she said.
“Knew what?” he asked.
“You’ve been going easy on me,” she said.
Rocco barked out a laugh. “You really think that?”
“I know that,” Luna insisted. He pushed off the ropes slowly, stalking toward her this time instead of circling. And for the first time since they stepped into the ring, Luna backed up. It was just one step, but he noticed. His eyes locked on hers as he moved closer.
“You want the truth?” he asked quietly.
Her breath hitched slightly. “Always.”
“I’ve been trying really hard not to put my hands on you.
” That wiped the smugness off her face instantly.
That worked for him because he was done pretending he wasn’t affected by her.
She turned him inside out with need, and it was time that he let her know it.
He was done pretending this thing between them wasn’t burning hotter every damn second they were together.
Luna swallowed hard as he stopped directly in front of her. “You say things like that,” she murmured, “and then act surprised when I kiss you.”
Rocco’s mouth twitched. “I wasn’t surprised.”
“No?” she asked.
“Nah.” His eyes dropped briefly to her lips again.
“I was hoping you would do it again.” The look she gave him after that nearly destroyed what little restraint he had left.
Slowly, carefully, Luna reached up and untied one glove with her teeth before tugging it free.
Then the other. Rocco watched every second of it, probably too intensely—definitely too intensely, but he couldn’t help it.
Her fingers slid under the front of his shirt once she stepped close again.
“You know what I think?” she asked softly.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I think you spend so much time trying to control yourself that eventually—” She looked up at him through her lashes.
“You’re going to snap.” His pulse kicked hard against his throat because she had no idea how close he already was to losing control.
Or maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.
Rocco reached up slowly, brushing sweat-damp hair back from her face, gently.
He was always gentle with her, even when every instinct in him screamed not to be.
“And what happens if I snap?” he asked quietly. Luna’s lips parted slightly as she stared up at him, and then she smiled.
“Guess we’ll find out,” she whispered.
Rocco knew right then that staying away from Luna was going to be impossible.
Not difficult or complicated, but impossible.
She stood in front of him in the middle of the ring with that dangerous little smile on her face, fingers tangled in the front of his shirt as if she belonged there.
And maybe the truly fucked up part was that it already felt like she did.
“Guess we’ll find out,” she whispered. Her words settled low in his chest, mixing with the adrenaline still pumping through him from sparring and the constant pull he felt whenever she got too close. Which was always.
His hand stayed against her face, thumb brushing lightly along her cheekbone—soft and careful.
Like touching her too hard might break whatever this thing was between them.
Luna’s eyes flicked to his mouth again. There it was—that tension and pull that had been building since the first day they met.
Only now, there was nothing professional standing between them anymore.
She wasn’t his doctor, and there were no rules.
There was just her and him. And the fact that he wanted her more every second they stood there.
“You keep looking at me like that,” Luna murmured softly, “and I’m going to start thinking you plan on kissing me again.”
Rocco’s mouth twitched slightly. “What makes you think that I ever stopped planning it?” Her breath caught. It was a tiny sound, barely there, but he heard it. Hell, he felt it down in his core and stored it away like something precious.
Christ. He was getting attached, too fast—dangerously fast. But when Luna looked at him like this—with heat and curiosity and something softer underneath it—he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that.
Her hands slid higher against his chest slowly, deliberately.
Not pushing him away, but pulling him closer.
“You know what your problem is?” she whispered.
Rocco huffed out a quiet laugh. “You’re gonna have to narrow that down.”
“You think too much,” she said. Yeah, she wasn’t wrong, but thinking kept people alive. It kept him from spiraling and kept him in control. But around Luna, control got slippery. It became hard to hold onto when she looked at him like temptation wrapped in black leggings and attitude.
“And you don’t think enough,” he shot back quietly.
She grinned. “That’s what makes me fun.” Before he could answer, Luna tugged him down by his shirt and kissed him again—hard with no hesitation whatsoever.
Rocco’s restraint snapped clean in half.
One second, he was trying to keep himself under control, and the next, his hands were on her waist, pulling her flush against him while he kissed her back like he’d been starving for her.
Maybe he had been, because nothing had felt this good in a long damn time.
Luna made this soft sound against his mouth that nearly wrecked him completely.
The kiss deepened, hotter now, rougher around the edges as weeks of tension finally boiled over between them.
And the craziest part was that he still couldn’t stop being careful with her, even now.
Even when she was gripping his shirt like she wanted more, and when every instinct in him screamed to take it.
Rocco forced himself to slow down, breaking the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against hers while both of them tried to breathe. “Jesus, Luna,” he muttered roughly.
She smiled against his mouth. “That sounded a little desperate.”
“You make me desperate,” he admitted. That shut her up for half a second, and then her eyes softened in a way he wasn’t prepared for. There it was again—that dangerous feeling in his chest. It wasn’t lust, or just attraction. It was something deeper—something real.
Rocco swallowed hard and stepped back slightly before he forgot where they were completely. They were at his gym, in public. There were eyes watching them. Luna looked mildly annoyed by the distance he put between them, and that made him grin despite himself.
“You’re enjoying this,” he accused.
“Immensely,” she admitted.
“Menace,” he breathed.
“Control freak,” she countered. He barked out a laugh at that because yeah, fair enough. Luna peeled the wraps from her hands slowly while watching him, and he had a feeling she knew exactly how distracting that was.
“You hungry?” he asked suddenly.
One brow lifted. “Are you asking me on another date?”
“Maybe,” he said.
“Look at you,” she teased. “Getting bold.”
Rocco shook his head. “Not bold. I just know I’m not ready to go home yet.” The teasing expression on her face faded slightly at the honesty in his voice. That happened a lot between them. One of them would joke, and then the other would say something real enough to crack right through it.
“I’m not ready to go home either,” she admitted quietly. His chest tightened again. He was beginning to have a love/hate relationship with the way she made him feel things he’d spent years trying to bury.
He climbed out of the ring first, then turned automatically to help her down.
Luna paused before taking his hand, and he knew that she didn’t need his help.
She was taking his hand because she wanted to touch him again, and that realization hit him hard enough to almost stop his breathing.
The second her fingers slid into his palm, something warm settled in his chest. It felt steady and seemed to ground him in a way that he felt safe, and Rocco honestly couldn’t remember the last time another person made him feel safe.
Luna stepped down in front of him but didn’t let go of his hand right away, and neither did he.
“You know,” she said softly, “for someone who claims he didn’t want to hit me—”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t start.”
Her grin came back instantly. “You seem pretty comfortable manhandling me now.”
Rocco laughed under his breath and stepped closer again. “Careful, Doc.”
“Or what?” she asked.
His gaze dropped to her mouth one more time before meeting her eyes again. “Or I’m gonna stop being polite.” It wasn’t a promise that he wasn’t willing to keep. Because playing the gentleman was easy for him, but the things that he wanted to do with Luna were definitely not gentlemanly.