LUNA
Luna knew she was playing a dangerous game. Not just because Rocco sat across from her looking like temptation wrapped in muscle and control—but because she understood exactly how thin the line was between what she knew about him, and what she was starting to feel for him. Those two things didn’t belong in the same space, but that didn’t stop her from sliding her foot up his leg under the table. And it didn’t stop her from watching the exact moment his control slipped—just a fraction. His jaw tightened, his shoulders went rigid, and his eyes darkened in a way that sent heat pooling low in her stomach. Yeah, that reaction was worth it.
“You’re staring,” she said lightly, even though she hadn’t moved her foot.
“Hard not to,” he shot back, voice rougher now. “You’re not exactly subtle.”
She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “I thought you liked that about me.” She shot him her best pouty face, making him smile.
“I do,” he said immediately, and that made something in her chest twist. Luna wasn’t used to that—men answering her without hesitation, without games, without trying to outmaneuver her. Most of them either got intimidated by her or tried to tame her, but Rocco did neither. He just met her where she was, and that was somehow worse.
She pulled her foot back slowly, not because she wanted to—but because she needed to breathe. Luna needed to think and to remind herself that this wasn’t just some random guy she picked up at a bar—this was Rocco. He was the man who had sat in her office and quietly admitted he felt like he didn’t deserve to survive. He was the man who carried guilt like it was stitched into his bones; the man who had clawed his way back from something dark—and was still fighting not to fall back into it. And now he was looking at her like she was something he wanted, and not something he needed, and for some odd reason, that mattered.
“Talk to me,” she said, softer now.
He frowned slightly. “About what?” he asked. “I thought that we were done with therapy.”
“We are finished with me being your therapist, but I still want to know things about you, Rocco. Tell me anything that isn’t me trying to get a rise out of you,” she teased, but there was an edge to it. “Tell me something real.” He studied her for a long second, like he was deciding how much to give her. Old habits die hard. He liked to make her work to get details out of him during their therapy sessions. She could see that he was doing that same thing with her now, even on their date.
Finally, he leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Tony and Luca think this whole thing is insane,” he said. “They said that nothing good could come from me dating my shrink.”
She winced at that term. “Well, I hate being called a shrink, and honestly, they’re not wrong.”
“They keep asking me if you’re going to psychoanalyze me over dinner,” he said. “So, are you?”
Her lips twitched. “Should I?”
“If you do, I’m leaving,” he threatened.
“Liar,” she challenged. She knew that he was too much of a gentleman to just get up and leave their date, but a part of her still worried that she was pushing him too far, too fast.
He smirked. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” That eased something between them, just a little.
“Your turn,” he said. “Tell me something real.” Luna hesitated, which wasn’t at all like her. But this—this wasn’t her usual game. This wasn’t flirting for fun or pushing buttons just to see what happened. For some reason, this mattered.
“I don’t date,” she said finally.
His brows pulled together. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” she insisted. “Not like this. Not seriously.”
“Why?” he asked.
She let out a quiet breath, glancing down at the table before meeting his eyes again. “Because I don’t do halfway,” she admitted. “And most men can’t handle all of me.” There it was—the raw, honest truth. It just came out a little sharper than she intended. But she didn’t take it back.
Rocco didn’t laugh. Didn’t brush it off or turn it into a joke. He just nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I can see that.”
Her lips parted slightly. “That’s it? No smart comment?”
“No,” he said simply. “You’re intense, you’re bossy, and you don’t back down.” His gaze held hers. “That doesn’t scare me.” Her heart stuttered—actually stuttered, which was ridiculous. She’d gone toe-to-toe with grown men in a boxing ring without blinking. But this man was looking at her like he meant it? Well, that got to her.
“You say that now,” she murmured.
“I’m not most men,” he reminded. No, he wasn’t, and that was the problem.
Dinner wrapped up with neither of them touching much of their food, both of them too wrapped up in something neither of them wanted to name yet. Outside, the night air hit her skin, cool against the heat still simmering under it. Rocco walked beside her, close enough that she could feel him without touching him. She liked that a little too much.
“You trying to impress me?” she asked as they reached his truck.
