The One Where They First Met

It was love at first sight.

The caramel-skinned goddess with brown eyes the size of saucers stole Fitzgerald Grant's heart the instant he walked through the glass doors of their local DMV. Shiny black hair curled around her shoulders like a luxurious silk scarf and her long bright red dress emphasized every inch of her feminine curves. The nostrils on her adorable button nose flared with irritation as she tapped her flat sandal-clad foot impatiently on the linoleum floor, drawing his attention to polish on her toes that perfectly matched her frock. He was immediately drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, and struck by her ethereal beauty; seemingly floating to stand directly behind her in line.

His mouth opened and words came out, but something lame and stupid like "come here often?" because apparently he had taken a time machine back to middle school when he didn't have any game.

Clearly not in the mood for small talk, the goddess feigned a quick smile in his direction that didn't quite meet her eyes, obviously hoping to deter him. But Fitz was determined. He couldn't stop, he couldn't shut up, not even if he wanted to, not even if he tried – this feeling that overcame him was unlike any he'd ever felt before in his life.

He talked incessantly, which was so unlike him, commenting on the unseasonably humid Vermont summer they were currently experiencing and explaining – unprompted – that his license had expired more than 2 months prior but he hadn't bothered to get it renewed until now.

"Don't tell anyone," he quipped, eliciting a genuine – albeit small – smile from her that nearly struck him dumb and blind by its splendor. Typical of the DMV, the line moved slower than molasses and he powered on, ignoring her closed-off body language as he talked about anything and everything that came to mind. His eager persistence soon paid off as he quickly discovered she was studying for her MBA at UVM and working as a TA for a family friend.

Already a huge fan of his job as an adjunct professor of political science (certainly more than his other job as a junior partner at his father's local law firm), Fitz sent a quick prayer of thanks to the universe for this remarkable coincidence and made a mental note to call his buddy Cyrus later for more information. Fitz knew if he asked her out now like he was dying to she would shut him down, even though he also knew that he was a good-looking man who had never lacked for female companionship throughout his adult life. Virtually every woman he had ever wanted, he'd eventually had. But something had always been missing, including with his most serious ex-girlfriend, Mellie. None of them, no matter how beautiful or loving, made him want him to NOT be with anyone else. None of them made him feel the way his mother had always told him he should feel when he met the love of his life – vibrantly alive and unconditionally devoted. A hopeless romantic through and through, Fitz knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had never felt that kind of love before.

Until the day he met Her.

She was The One. Any woman he had ever been with paled in comparison to this indescribable vision before him, whose name he didn't even know. Even the tone of her soft, quiet voice elicited emotions in him he'd never thought possible mere moments after meeting someone. And he knew if he let her go, he would regret it as long as he lived.

Suddenly the front of the line was upon them and he could feel her slipping away.

It was now or never.

Grinning (because he was aware of the effect his smile had on women), he extended his hand to her and said warmly; "I'm Fitz."

She hesitated, those doe eyes and long lashes peering down at his outstretched hand suspiciously for several long beats before sliding back up to meet his gaze. The second their eyes met, his throat went dry and his cock hardened in his pants so quickly he prayed she wouldn't look down again or he'd embarrass himself even more than he already had. What an effect this stranger had on him. Finally, thankfully, she smiled that small smile again and shook his hand. "Olivia."

"It was nice to meet you Olivia," he said as the warmth of her touch radiated through his body like a blinding ray of sunlight. His thumb lightly stroked the outside of her palm as their hands pulled back and he immediately shoved his into his pocket to prevent his throbbing prick from tenting his pants. "I hope I see you around campus."

He was going to do everything that he could to make sure he did.

That's because Fitz Grant was nothing if not tenacious and it certainly didn't hurt that one of his best friends, Cyrus Beene, was a dean at their university. There was only one Olivia in the MBA program and by lunchtime Fitz knew exactly where to find his mysterious beauty. Calculated "accidental" run-ins made him feel pathetic, desperate and needy, not to mention decades younger than his 32 years, but he was so inexplicably, undeniably drawn to Olivia he didn't care.

That first run-in, her initial surprise quickly wore off to what appeared to be her usual demeanor of aloof but polite, just as she had been that first day at the DMV. His office was only a short walk from the building where hers was located, and it truly wasn't a complete stretch for him to regularly pass through, so he quickly made a habit of stopping by to say hi, make small conversation, and get his fill just staring at her. He could tell that she wanted to tell him to go fuck himself but it was apparently against her nature. The first month or so, she did her best to dodge him, often blowing him off, clearly desperate for him to get the hint. But with each rejection and each passing day, he grew more and more determined. He saw his whole future in those brown eyes. Her smile – when she did smile – completely arrested him. And those lips – God how he'd dreamt of feasting on those luscious full lips of hers. He ached to know how she tasted, how she felt beneath him. Her intelligence, her humor, her wit – when she let her guard down, when she let him see those glimpses of her personality – he found her to be the most fascinating woman in the entire world, even more so than his mother, to whom he had become convinced no other female could ever compare. But of Olivia, Fitz could not get enough. They belonged together, he was as sure of it as he was his own name.

Sometime in October, as he was gearing up for midterms, Fitz noticed she'd finally stopped brushing him off. She finally stopped buying her own Starbucks, in anticipation of the fact that he always got her tall decaf cappuccino (two sugars) when he picked up his double shot espresso. And she stayed to chat now, finally allowing herself to laugh at his jokes. He could tell that she looked forward to seeing him, that she enjoyed his company; that her gaze lingered on him when she thought he wasn't looking – and sometimes even when she knew he was.

Now he was certain – if he asked her out, she would say yes. All of his persistence and hard work the last two months was going to pay off.

He just knew it.

It was only a matter of time.