Aria
Moments later, the air on the roof still tastes like everything Lucas didn't say.
He's standing there—broad shoulders stiff, fists tucked into his pockets like they're the only thing keeping him from reaching for me again. I almost laugh at how dramatic he looks with the moonlight slicing over his jaw.
"I should go," I say, even though every cell in my body wants to stay pinned in this moment with him.
He nods. Doesn't move. Doesn't even look at me.
Gravity pulls me toward him anyway. A slow lean, like the universe still wants our mouths to meet. But I force my feet back, step by painful step until the door is between us.
"Goodnight, Lucas," I whisper.
He doesn't answer.
But when the metal door clicks behind me, I feel him wanting to.
*******************************************
Zara is waiting for me downstairs, perched on a bench with her curls fluffy from the cold and her arms crossed like she's ready to interrogate someone.
"Well?" she asks.
"Well," I echo uselessly.
Her eyes narrow. "Did the human statue say anything useful? Confess his deep buried love for you? Strip off his shirt and reveal another tattoo?"
"Oh my God! No!" I smack her arm. "Also… is there another tattoo?"
"Aria."
"He talked a bit," I admit, cheeks warm. "He said he doesn't let people close."
"Ha!" Zara barks. "You are already under that man's skin like an itch he can't scratch without blushing."
"I don't think Lucas blushes."
"Everyone blushes. Especially emotionally constipated men." She loops her arm through mine. "But you need to keep your head, okay? Hot men with trauma aren't hobbies. They're… boss-level enemies. With abs."
"Well now I'm terrified," I mutter.
We step out into the night. New York is glowing under a cool breeze—late-night food carts, taxis honking, music leaking from windows.
Zara bumps my shoulder. "Be smart. You trust me, right?"
"Always."
"Then trust me when I say—if he hurts you, I will bury him under this gym."
I grin. "Okay Daenerys."
She lifts her chin proudly. "Mother of Dragons and Defender of Dumb Bitches in Love."
I burst out laughing—loud, messy, soul-deep. She links her arm with mine again.
"Let's go," she says gently. "You need fries."
Lucas
I stay rooted on the roof long after she's gone.
Her voice—"You're pretending you don't feel it"—won't leave my head. It's carved in there now, a truth I never wanted to face.
I close my eyes and exhale, tension twisting deeper into my spine.
I want her.
Not just her body. Hell, that would be easy. It's everything else… the way she laughs like the world is worth the noise. The way she sees through my armor like it's glass. The way her eyes spark with fire even when she's afraid.
Someone like me doesn't get someone like her. Connor would shove me and tell me to stop being an idiot.
A ghost of a grin cracks my lips. "You'd like her, man," I whisper into the night. And that hurts.
Because I wasn't supposed to feel anything again. I buried myself in missions and shadows, convinced that if I didn't let myself live, I couldn't lose anything else.
Then she crashed through my door—bleeding, breathless, angry at the world—and somehow made me feel alive again.
I rub a hand over my face.
Darius appears beside me silently. I don't ask how long he's been there. He's always everywhere and nowhere at once.
"You're falling," he says simply.
I stiffen. "No."
He tilts his head. "Then why are you up here praying she turns around?"
I glare at the skyline. "I Don't."
Darius sighs. "Lucas… you deserve something good again."
"Not like her."
"She isn't porcelain," he says. "She's fire. If she wanted to run from you, she would've done it already."
"She should. For her own safety. She is life, Darius. And I'm always lurking around death. Me and death play a dangerous game, I cannot let it win over me other ways. I already lost Connor. I will not give it another chance."
"Connor and Aria are two different people. It's unfair to compare them both"
I swallow. Hard. "And you don't know what I play with every day? Danger. Girls like her are missing Darius. None of them ever see light again. You know what happens to them, right." My heart ache at the thought.
"If I let myself believe I deserve someone like her, do you know what happens? She becomes the direct target. We cannot be naïve and assume the mafia hasn't already figured out the govt has set up a network to expose them. They have people inside our organizations like we do in their system but it's stupidity if we think we are strong and safe, to protect the people in our lives. There is a reason we chose this path. You know better."
Darius pats my shoulder. "Just don't push her so far she stops trying."
Then he walks back inside, leaving me alone with the truth I least wanted to hear.
True. everything he said was true. Also, everything I said too. But this stupid knot in my heart is not ready to listen to the facts. I have to show it. I will.
I rush back to my apartment and put on my armour for the darkness. I could channel this burning inside me for my mission. They want intel, I will give them intel. Into the darkness and the dangers lurking in the corners might drag me out of this madness. A punch in the face to remind me why I am a threat to her.
Aria
The next week feels like a battleground of tension.
Lucas is ice-cold and distant again—except for the way his eyes heat when he thinks I'm not looking. Except for the subtle lingering touches when he corrects my stance. Except for the way he always manages to be near me when someone else gets too close.
And oh… jealousy looks very good on him.
Because Theo cannot shut up around Zara.
She's stopped by the gym every session—doing homework on the bleachers, cheering when I land a good hit, occasionally calling Lucas "Sergeant Sunshine."
She and Theo flirt like it's a sport neither of them agreed to play.
"You ever gonna spar, Zara?" Theo asks.
Zara side-eyes him. "You offering to be my punching bag? Cute."
Theo clutches his heart dramatically. "I love it when you insult me."
"Therapy exists," she replies. "Look into it."
Darius and I exchange looks of misery and amusement. Meanwhile, Lucas watches the whole thing silently… but I see the tic in his jaw when Theo laughs too hard at Zara's jokes.
Jealous. Of Theo.
It's petty… and I love it.
One night, during a break, I grab water and find Lucas watching me. Really watching. Like he's reading every thought in my skull.
He nods toward the ring. "You improved. Shoulders stayed up."
"That almost sounded like a compliment."
"It wasn't."
Even his lies are adorable.
"You're jealous," I whisper.
He freezes. "Of what. Your performance?"
"You glared at Theo like he stole your dog."
He lowers his voice, dangerously calm. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"You're right," I snark. "Maybe you were thinking about kale or taxes or—"
He closes the space between us so fast the air disappears. Startling me.
"Aria." My name on his tongue is gravel and heat. "Don't push."
I look up at him, refusing to drop the stare. "Or what?"
His throat works on a swallow.
"I will break," he admits.
The world stops. No punches. No footwork. Just truth.
"I don't want you to break," I whisper.
"You already did," he answers, voice low and ragged. "Just by walking into my life."
Before I can breathe, class resumes and he pulls away like nothing happened.
But we both know something did.