.
Rey is slow to leave apartment number 7 the next time she delivers their pizza. Her car is parked in front of apartment 2, and she walks all the way down the sidewalk past Ben's door instead of through the parking lot. He's been sitting next to her in polisci every class period now, though he never says a word except when Dr. Organa (his mother) calls on him. Rey wears his jacket on all her deliveries, only slipping it off when she goes into the kitchen because it isn't regulation. (All the other drivers wear other coats when they're delivering, so she doesn't feel bad about it; the corporate jackets aren't warm enough.)
Rey passes apartment 2 without incident. She takes the steps slowly and is depositing the pizza carrier onto the passenger seat when she decides she has a legitimate reason to bother Ben. Hopping back up the steps, before she loses her nerve, Rey knocks on his door.
The cologne smell has nearly faded from the jacket—or maybe it has completely. Maybe the memory of it is just strong enough that she can imagine she smells it. Either way, Rey breathes deeply the scent of the collar one last time before straightening up and trying to look casual.
She's raising her hand in indecision, unsure whether to knock again or give up, when the door swings wide and she's greeted by the sight of a very shirtless Ben.
"Rey," he says her name quietly, looking mildly surprised.
"Um—" Rey casts about for something else to look at, feeling her face heating up. Ben's hair is damp from the shower and he's wearing some kind of athletic pants. The light scar that cuts down his face continues down his chest, she notices, the scar tissue shining silver. And there's the matter of—well—hence the need to look somewhere else. Rey is so shocked by the sight of his perfect, toned chest—his broad shoulders, the muscles of his upper arms, the dark nipples dotting his pectorals—
Her eyes land on the upside-down "2." "Your coat. I came to return it. I fixed the heater." Rey starts to shrug out of it, but Ben reaches out a hand to stop her.
"You've been wearing it? Besides tonight?" He seems pleased by the possibility.
"Well you wanted me to, didn't you?"
Ben doesn't answer for a long time. Rey catches herself staring at his bare chest and drops her gaze to her hands, where she worries the edges of the coat, ready to hand it over.
"You should hang onto it," he says, gently patting at her shoulder with a hand. "It suits you."
Rey just nods up at him. He's looking at her like—well, she's not sure what this look means. She's had men hit on her before, but Ben is too hard to read, too good at making his face blank, and she is—after all—dressed in ugly work clothes and smelling not-so-faintly of pizza. Say something, she pleads with him silently, finally dropping her eyes when he shows no sign of doing just that.
"I have other deliveries," she mumbles.
Ben's hand squeezes her shoulder, then drops away. "Be safe," he tells her. Then he moves inside to close his door.
Even with the heater functioning and on full blast, Rey feels cold for the rest of the night.
.
On an evening she doesn't have to work, Finn convinces her to drive him to the rec center. Poe is there to greet them and swipe their ID cards; and so Rey isn't surprised when Finn sets up in the weight room in direct view of the check-in desk. For the first fifteen minutes Rey fiddles with a few machines, but honestly she finds the machines boring. She'd rather do something with more purpose.
"I'll be around, okay?" she calls to Finn, indicating her cell phone before she commences to wandering. She's been to the rec center maybe a handful of times every year. It's part of her tuition, but she's always had work cutting into the time she might be doing anything else. Maybe she'll make it here more often later this year, she thinks idly as she passes the dance studios and cycling rooms. Maybe she'll take a group class. It's really something to get paid appropriately for your labor—something she wishes she'd realized sooner working for Plutt.
Rey tells herself her wandering is aimless, that she's looking for something to do—but she can't pretend she isn't hopeful when her feet carry her down the walkway into the adjoining ice arena. And she really can't pretend anything—can't hide from herself or what it is she's doing when she spots a jersey numbered "7" and picks up her pace.
There are a few people seated in the low stands around the public ice—girls resting and chattering, guys watching with semi-interest. The team is divided in two for practice, and Rey lets her feet carry her to a spot on the bleachers where she can watch. Hockey is really violent: a lot of crashing into one another, a surprising amount of shoving. She often loses sight of the puck—but it's not the puck that's most interesting here.
She knows he's wearing protective gear, but she just can't get over how massive Ben is. In class he looks uncomfortable, and certainly the desks in their classroom are contributing to that; but here on the ice his size is an asset. Now and again as the game goes on, there are shouts and cheers from the girls in the stands. One guy in a coat like the one Ben lent to her sits nearby, foot in a boot and a pair of crutches next to him, keeping up a steady stream of instructions and obscenities for his teammates. And though it's not a real game, Rey gets caught up in all of it: after Ben pushes between two players faster than she would've imagined and whacks the puck perfectly to another player, she lets out an excited whoop of "Fuck 'em up, number seven!"
His head jerks up, the game momentarily forgotten, as he looks out into the bleachers, scanning them quickly until his eyes land on hers. The mask makes it hard for her to see his expression when he finds her, but she doesn't miss what happens next—a teammate slams into him, sending him crashing into the ice.
"Shit!" Rey hisses. Her face heats up, though she's not sure who she's more embarrassed for.
One of the guys on the ice yells something, and the two halves of the same team swoop into separate huddles. Ben picks himself up and skates over into his huddle, but he clearly looks back in Rey's direction again before joining them.
Where tf are you? Rey's phone buzzes.
Ice arena, she texts Finn back.
I need some things from the grocery store and they close at 9. Do you think we can swing by?
Rey sighs. She works at 9, and that might be cutting it close. But Finn is a good friend and a decent roommate, and she doesn't mind helping him out. Besides, it's just as well—who knows when Ben's going to make another move or if he even will. He still doesn't make an effort to speak to her in Dr. Organa's class, though sometimes she swears she catches him looking away quickly, as if he'd been watching her. Either she's been grossly misinterpreting every interaction with him, she tells herself, or he's painfully awkward.
"Hey Rey!" Finn is calling her, flagging her down from the nearest entrance.
"Coming," she calls, standing to go, looking over her shoulder at the ice one last time. The guys are coming in, taking a break. Ben takes off his helmet and his mane of hair is slick with sweat, falling around his face in a funny, mussed way. It's still hot as hell. He looks directly at her like he has something to say and skates in her direction, but there's still the low wall and glass partitions between them.
"Rey! Did you get my text?" Finn is nearly right in front of her.
"Yeah! Sorry! We'll go," Rey says, putting a hand on his shoulder and steering Finn back toward the door. She looks up at Ben, giving him an apologetic wave. "Sorry," she calls, "I have work."
.
"So who's your boyfriend?"
Rey blanches.
Ben's glowering down at her, staring daggers. It's—ridiculous.
"Excuse me?" she says, taking a step back, holding the pizza carrier just out of reach. She's wearing his coat like always, but the abrupt, angry way he's just answered the door has put her off the sweet feeling she gets when she remembers the night he draped it around her. His tone is way out of line.
Ben clenches his jaw. "You could've said something. 'Don't give me your coat, Ben, I'm taken.' But—"
"I hate that. 'Taken.' Like someone can just claim me. And also I'm not, so I don't know where you get off—"
"People don't just casually touch each other like—you can pretend it's not—"
Rey suddenly realizes what he's referring to, and she can't help it—she laughs. "You mean Finn."
Ben doesn't see the humor.
"At the rec? That was my roommate Finn. Who may or may not be not-so-secretly dating our other male roommate, Poe."
Ben is quiet, the anger melting out of his expression.
"He's gay, Ben," Rey explains, somewhat unnecessarily.
Ben shoves his hands in his pockets and suddenly becomes very interested in the floor.
"But Ben, also?" A little frustrated edge creeps back into Rey's voice. "What makes you think you can interrogate me about him?"
"I'm sorry," Ben huffs. "I was out of line."
This is when you admit how jealous you are, Rey thinks at him, expectant, and ask me on a date. But Ben just stands there, propping up the doorway, refusing to meet her eyes.
"Okay then," Rey says, and turns to get back in the car. She's backing out of the space when she realizes she never even gave him the pizza he ordered, so she rushes back to the door, knocking frantically.
"Sorry!" she apologies breathlessly, handing over the box.
"It's fine," he reassures her with a noncommittal shrug. "I forgot too."
.
Rey decides she's going to have to take matters into her own hands. The opportunity comes soon, on a day Dr. Organa dismisses class a couple of minutes early.
"Hey, Ben," Rey taps him on the arm, "Here." She passes him a little pastel sticky note, which he takes, hesitantly.
"I'm giving you my phone number," she explains, making the little joke she kept rehearsing in her mind, "so you don't have to order pizza whenever you want to see me." She offers him a smile that's ten times more confident than she feels.
Ben swallows visibly and drops his eyes to his satchel. "Thanks," he grunts quietly, gathering it up by the handle and standing to leave.
For her part, Rey remains there frozen for a moment. Of course there was a part of her that liked to think it was more than a coincidence that he's been such a frequent customer, almost as frequent as the guys in number seven—but Ben's reaction has all but confirmed it.
She's leaving the building for her next class in a hopeful, giddy haze when she grabs for her phone out of habit. Already she has two texts from an unfamiliar number:
Hi.
It's Ben
.
Whee! One chapter left! I'm really amusing myself writing awkward!Ben and I appreciate y'all coming along for the ride.