Fated to Break | ✓

s e x

^^^A song I think describes how Rowan feels about Olivia^^^^
**LISTEN WHILE YOU READ**

Rowan

I'm not drunk. I'm not.

But I can't accept that I made a decision like this sober.

Olivia Brennan is sitting across from me in my hot hub. The same Olivia Brennan I've had a painful school girl crush on for the past two years. She's beautiful and sexy but I already knew that, obviously. But the more I learn about her likes, dislikes, the way her brain is wired the harder I fall. She's selfless, a smartass (like me), and respects boundaries while still maintaining a healthy level of curiosity. I'm a closed book, always have been, but the way she looks at me like she wants to study my pages for hours and can't wait for me to open myself up to her without coaxing, It's tempting. To be honest I'll tell her anything if she just asks.

I'm also relieved I got to hide my boner in the bubbling water before she noticed. Her body, a perfect 5'7, thick thighs, an ass that would overflow my large hands, and not to mention breasts that can barely be concealed by the green contraption she calls a swimsuit top. I'm trying not to stare. But it's hard not to notice the pink tint her skin is taking from the hot water.

What did she ask? Oh right.

"Depends on what you want to know," I say, water dripping down from my hair, distractingly sliding down my cheek. Since I don't need to keep it short for sports it's gotten a little long than I'm used to.

Her head tilts to the side while she thinks, her light brown hair falling over her shoulder, the ends touching the water and darkening. Her sleepy eyes widen, a question coming to mind, "Your name, is it Italian?"

That's an adorable first question. I rest my head in my hand, studying her, "Yes. It is. My father is from Italy. Met my mom on a business trip to the states."

"Wait, actually? I only guessed because of your name and your genetics but I just figured your great grandparents were Italian or something but your dad? That's so romantic, was it love at first sight?" Olivia's eyes brighten as she leans in, prattling on like a little kid. Her breasts bounce with the movement and I have to pinch myself not to look.

"Yup, my pops is one hundred percent Italian. But love at first sight? Not exactly," I laugh, thinking back to the story my Pops told me. "He asked her out about ten times before she finally agreed to go out with him. My mom was a bombshell. Confident, loud, and the most compassionate person you'd ever met."

Olivia's expression starts to soften with understanding. I nod, smiling as I remember all the good memories, "She passed away when I was nine. Car accident."

Olivia straightens, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry."

I shake my head, picking up some of the jet bubbles in the water, "I'm happy to have known her."

An emotion comes over her then, it's soft and delicate but I can't place it.

Steering away from the deep stuff I ask, "Your turn. Why Canardi?"

I know she's smart enough for a well known Ivy league like Harvard. She lives off campus as well but she isn't from here, she's from out of state.