Luna:That’s dangerous, Rocco.
Rocco:Yeah. It is.
Silence stretched between them again, loaded with everything they weren’t saying, and with everything they both felt but hadn’t quite crossed into yet. Luna exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair.
“You need boundaries,” she murmured to herself. She had spent years helping people build them, enforce them, and respect them, but now she was about to blow right through her own. Her phone buzzed again.
Rocco:Tell me to stop and I will.
That hit harder than anything else he’d said, because she knew he meant it. He’d walk away if she asked him to. He wouldn’tpush her and wouldn’t fight her on her decision. He’d respect her. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t want that.
Her chest tightened as she stared at the message. This was the moment—the line in the sand. It was her choice to make. She could end things between them now and go back to her normal life. She’d be able to stay in control, or she could step into something messy. Something unpredictable and real.
Luna smiled slowly, something reckless and certain settled in her bones. Yeah, she never picked the safe choice. Her fingers moved before she could talk herself out of it.
Luna:I’m not telling you to stop.
Three dots appeared instantly, then disappeared, and then came back. She could practically feel him on the other side of the phone, trying to figure out what to say, and it made her grin.
Rocco:Good.
His response was simple, but it carried weight along with promise. Her pulse picked up again, that same heat from the night before curling low in her stomach. “Yeah,” she whispered to herself, dropping her phone to the bed beside her. “This is going to be a problem.” But she didn’t sound upset about it—not even a little bit, because for the first time in a long time, Luna wasn’t trying to control what came next. She was just going to feel her way through it, and that was a whole different kind of dangerous.
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. Butthis—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.
