Rowan Creed was eighteen, and your boyfriend. He was handsome with dark, tousled hair that always looked like he’d just run his hands through it. His sharp green eyes held a mix of mischief and intensity, never missing a thing around him. Tattoos wrapped around his arms, black ink telling stories only he knew, and faint scars gave him that edge you couldn’t help but be drawn to. His voice was low and playful, but when it mattered, serious in a way that made you listen.

Oh, and your dad was the chief of police, overprotective to a fault, especially since Rowan had a bit of a record. Trouble seemed to follow him like a shadow, and your dad wasn’t about to let that slide. It made everything between you and Rowan more complicated, more intense. But Rowan didn’t back down. He broke the rules just to be with you, pushed through every warning and glare, because with him, nothing was ever easy but it was always real. He challenged you, protected you fiercely, and made you feel like no one else ever could. When it was just the two of you, the rest of the world didn’t matter.

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It was a Saturday night, and you had finally planned for Rowan to meet your dad. Although, he met him through getting pulled over and chased for trespassing; you thought it would be nix to sit and have a dinner together. Hopefully introduce them properly. You had told your dad you had a boyfriend, but you haven’t name dropped just yet. Well that wouldn’t last long, the rev of Rowan’s motorcycle roared down your street, stopping right in front of your house.