"You did what with who and the how now?" Rose sputters, as I peel my soaked clothes off of my body.

A look that's somewhere between amused and concerned settles onto Rose's face as she follows me into my room. Her light-brown skin is a little flushed and I realize I'd slammed into our apartment during one of her exercise routines. With a tank top on and some short shorts, Rose looks about ready to kick ass, which is great because her fiery personality has saved my ass on more than one occasion.

I don't know where I'd be without Rose, probably still living downtown in that cramped, shared-flat with five other people. Fortunately, Rose saw me and pretty much adopted me into her family—between herself and Paige. I've never felt such a keen sense of belonging in my entire life.

As a consequence, we're a little closer to sisters than friends, which means she's more inclined to give me the third degree when it comes to questioning my life choices.

Or poor life decisions, though I imagine I've gotten a little less reactive now that I have Rose in my life... Maybe?

Judging from her look, that's a solid, "No."

"My car got a flat, but it's okay because Ben gave me a ride home," I start again.

"Yeah, I got that. I didn't quite get the part where you made out with him? Ben? Quiet Ben from the coffee shop, that Ben? The one you've been crushing on since forever?"

I grin before searching for a towel in my messy room. I find one hanging on the back of my door and give it a sniff—not mildewy, fantastic.

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean to make out with him," I explain while squeezing the water out of my hair.

"You didn't mean to launch yourself into his lap and stick your tongue down his throat?" Rose deadpans.

"Hey, he stuck his tongue down my throat; I just, well, reciprocated."

Rose sighs. "Go shower. You stink like coffee and I don't want you getting sick. We can talk about all of this later."

"Thanks, sweets!" I call before heading to our almost literally closet-sized bathroom.

Yeah, I haven't really thought this through at all. Aside from the fact that I'm a poor student and he's obviously some sort of successful banking professional, I know little to nothing about Ben other than he enjoys his Americanos fake-sweet, with a little fat.

Oh, and he's unbelievably attractive to me, kisses with his whole heart, and smells like a dream. Yeah, all great things to know about someone before you know any details about their life.

He's originally from New York, you know that! I think, as if this one detail solves everything.

I let out a huff as I strip my underthings off before moving to turn the shower on. The water isn't hot enough when I step under and I let out a little squeak as it heats slowly.

I grab a bar of soap and scrub harder than is entirely necessary to keep myself at least a little grounded. It's not as if I'm going to fall madly in love with Ben and end up spending the rest of my life with him, right? My stomach flips at the thought.

Oh. Oh no. Don't do this, Rey. Don't jump in head first when you hardly know anything about him!

"Okay, okay!" I say out loud, trying to steady myself and regain control of my emotions. "It's only a first date. Ice cream. It's not as if he's going to propose. Just get to know him and see how things go."

There. There! That's what I'll do, I think while mentally congratulating myself for tempering my expectations.

Though, as I slip under the uneven spray of the showerhead, my mind betrays me as I can't help but think about how much I enjoyed being in his arms or how he was definitely the best kisser I'd ever experienced. Yeah, total and utter betrayal.

Just have fun. Just have fun. Just have fun, I repeat the mantra in my mind.

Still, even now, there's something different about Ben. It almost feels as if I've been living in slow motion, waiting for him to turn up. Now that he finally has, it's a little overwhelming.

It almost feels as if my future hinges upon what happens between us next. It's a bloody good thing he can't read my thoughts, otherwise, he'd probably run for the hills. Still, whatever is going on between us, whether it's attraction or something more, I really think he feels it too. And there's a part of me that can't help but hope that maybe he's been waiting for me too.


In the morning, Finn helps me with my car and I barely make it back in time for my date. I'd texted Ben to meet me right outside of the car park, so that's where I wait.

Rose styled my hair into soft waves (which I'm never able to replicate without her help) and let me borrow her navy, oversized cashmere jumper, which sits low on my shoulders and hangs to above my knees.

Paired with some dark tights and ankle boots—also courtesy of Rose—and I feel pretty confident in my first date look, even if I am a little chilly without a jacket. That is, of course, until I see Ben walk down the streets towards me.

With dark, fitted slacks, a burgundy button cable knit jumper, and a gorgeous, gray overcoat, he looks as if he stepped off the pages of fuckin' GQ and I really wish I'd stepped up my fashion game.

He smiles a little as he notices me and I wave awkwardly. His hair looks stupidly perfect and about every woman in the vicinity notices how handsome he looks.

I'd be jealous if he didn't come right up and greet me with a sweet peck on the lips. Ben's lips linger as I do my best to control my raging hormones.

Is it considered a faux pas to climb your date like a tree? Asking for a friend. I am hopeless.

At least, Ben doesn't seem to mind because he places another quick kiss on my lips before pulling back.

"You get your car fixed okay?" he asks, and it takes me a minute to remember what the hell he's talking about.

"Right. Tires. Yes! Finn helped me put on two winter tires, so I should be good to go for a while."

"Finn? From the coffee shop?" Ben asks as his head cocks to the side.

His gorgeous hair falls into his eyes a little bit and I barely resist the urge to reach out and brush it back.

"Yeah, he's dating my best friend and, well, is one of my best friends."

Ben gives me a little smile and I wonder what he's thinking about—does he like Finn?

"He's very good at chatting. Very amicable. Even I learned to look forward to seeing him," Ben comments and I laugh a little.

"Yeah, you do realize that you're not the easiest person to get to know. It took longer to get your name than anyone else I've ever seen come in. What did you used to give? Some sort of pseudonym?"

"Kylo," Ben admits and has the decency to look sheepish about it.

I want to tell him it's okay, that I understand the need for barriers between your heart and other people, but what I say is, "HAH! I remember now! We all assumed you must actually be named Kyle, or maybe that your mother was some sort of yuppie with a penchant for unusual names. Either of those guesses true?"

Ben shakes his head. "Not quite. It's a combination of my mother and father's last names. For a while, I didn't want to be recognized by my family name, so I went by a fake one. Didn't work for long but, for a while, I was anonymous."

"Not interested in nepotism?"

"Not at all."

I scrunch my nose up at him. "I don't have any parents to speak of, so my name was given to me by the local authorities. I don't have to worry about anyone recognizing me, because I've always been a nobody."

I don't mean for it to sound as sad and pathetic as it does. As is often the case, my tongue and emotions get the better of me.

However, Ben doesn't miss a beat, and immediately assures me, "You might think you're nobody, but I know that's not true."

"What do you mean?"

"Sure, a family name can mean a lot to some, but often what comes with it is the burden of a legacy you can never live up to. And besides, you're somebody to me."

I can feel my mouth slide open. I have no idea what to say to that. And Ben—oh, my Lord, he's too adorable—he blushes from the bottom of his neck all the way to the top of his head.

It's a lot. Seems as if Ben's mouth gets him in trouble too.

Eventually, I manage to reply with a shy, "Thanks, Ben. You're somebody to me too, but not because of your fancy name—whatever it might be."

"Organa-Solo," he admits with a little cringe as if I'm going to suddenly realize the significance of his name, but don't have any who his family is.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to go home and Google you. I promise. Your secret identity is safe with me!"

Ben lets out a little chuckle, and it's kind of nerdy and precious and fills me with warmth.

Shit. Shit. Shit. He is way too fuckin' much. He's going to become something of a bad habit if he keeps up with this.

Before things can get awkward, I suggest, "Why don't we get some ice cream?"

"That sounds great," he agrees.

"I know you said that you wanted to take me to dinner, but I appreciate you meeting me today. I kind of prefer the first date to be somewhere outside, preferably in the daytime."

"No dinners? Why is that?" Ben questions as he falls into step alongside me.

We make our way through the crowded promenade as I clarify, "No—No, this is proper, first-date material. Dinners are for third dates."

"And why is that?" Ben asks as we maneuver between clusters of people.

He holds his arm out for me as we move along, as if he's some kind of old-timey hero, and I wrap my arm around his a little awkwardly. I have no idea what I'm doing here and I think it shows because Ben gently arranges my arm around his so that it's not bent at an unnatural angle.

"Erm. Third dates are for dinner because..."

Because, if you fancy each other, dinner leads to desert, which leads to coffee in someone's flat, and then...

Whatever my face is telegraphing works like a charm because Ben coughs a little and his cheeks flush. I can't see his ears, not with how his hair is styled today, but I know they're red and I love it.

"Right. So, the second date is some sort of event—to test whether you are compatible with someone, and then dinner to ensure that you're not dating a complete monster."

"Monster?" Ben repeats and there's a little stutter in his step.

Weird... I think. Wonder what he has against monsters?

"Yeah, you know. Horrible to the wait staff, demanding, stiffs the server on the tip—that kind of thing?"

"Oh, right. Of course."

When we walk up to the ice cream parlor, the line is already out the door, which means we're going to have to wait. The smell of freshly baked waffle cones wafts from inside of the store and my stomach rumbles in anticipation.

"What else would I mean?" I wonder, curious as we walk to the back of the line.

"Nothing, I'm sure," he deflects because he was quite obviously thinking of something and my bet's on it begin personal.

I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable, so I let it slide. Without thinking, I slide my hand down along his forearm and thread my fingers through his. His skin is warm and a little rough to the touch. I wouldn't have expected Ben to be someone who uses their hands a lot, but I don't really know very much about him.

"Have you ever been here before?" I change the subject as we shuffle along.

Molly Moon's is always busy, but it's worth the wait, plus the staff is amazing.

"I don't get out much, aside from corporate events," he replies.

It's not long before we're inside the building, which I appreciate because it's nice outside, but kind of chilly. As we head into the queuing area, I try to peek over at the ice cream options, when suddenly Ben pulls me against his chest, holding me tight as a little kid squeezes by us.

"Hi," I squeak, suddenly very close to him.

To my eternal happiness, he doesn't make a move to separate us; instead, Ben slides his free hand along my back and holds my hip as I press my head against his chest. I wanted him to do that, but I sure wasn't about to make the first move—I already launched myself into his lap. I don't need him thinking I'm that desperate for affection.

Even if you absolutely are, my brain reminds me.

I wiggle my hand free from his and press into his shoulder while I assure him, "Well, this is the best ice cream on the planet. I recommend getting whatever you order in a waffle cone—they are made fresh—and getting it coated with chocolate. You can thank me later."

"The cone has chocolate in it?" he confirms as I grin.

"It sure does. I also recommend lemon curd..."

"Lemon curd," he interrupts. "Seriously?"

"Deadly. It's beyond brilliant. I get it every time I'm here."

The line slogs onward and reluctantly step away from him as we both crane our necks to see the flavors. To my immense pleasure, Ben reaches out for me again, big hands on my hips as we move along.

"I'm beginning to think you have a sweet tooth, Rey," Ben teases.

His thumb is rubbing distracting circles against my hip, so when I reply, my voice has an embarrassingly squeaky pitch. "Ohh—yes. I do?"

Why did you say that like it's a question! Don't be a twit.

Ben tugs me close, my back against his front as he murmurs, "You do?"

"Ah... I do!"

"Seems as if you're all sweetness and sunshine, Rey."

"No! Not entirely. I mean, I can be tough if I need to be. But, if I care for you, I'm the best!" I joke because his proximity is making my body quake and my stomach flip.

"We'll see about that," he murmurs.

I turn to give him a little nudge against his chest with my nose as we shuffle along.

When we get to the counter, I order the honey lavender; Ben orders melted chocolate. I get some lemon curd, he gets organic sprinkles. After we're given our orders and pay, we head outside and find a bench to sit on.

The ice cream is to die for and I manage to eat my entire cone without getting any on Rose's jumper. Unfortunately, while we're eating, the conversation stalls a little. I've gotten better with chit-chat while working at the coffee shop, but with someone as attractive as Ben, it's hard to keep my wits about me.

Eventually, I go with, "So, this is a little awkward."

"First dates often are," he replies.

I give him a little side-eye and notice that his hands are curled into fists as if he's upset or feeling as uncomfortable as I am. I don't want him to feel that way, so I point at his hand and then make a come-hither motion with my own.

It takes him a second, but eventually, he deciphers my gesturing.

While threading my fingers through his own, I suggest, "Okay, I have an idea. Three questions—I'll ask you whatever comes to my head and then you do the same for me. Once you tell me all your secrets, there won't be much else that can be weird between us."

"I'm not sure I like this idea," he hedges, but I'm not going to take no for an answer.

"Come on, how else are we supposed to find out whether we have more in common than an unnatural fixation on coffee?"

"And here I thought you were drawn to me for my charming personality," Ben deadpans and I choke out a laugh.

"A joke? I have to say, Ben, you're blowing my perception of you. At the shop, I was pretty certain that you were only capable of monosyllabic replies or nothing at all."

"I'm useless before my first Americano."

"First? Have you been cheating on me with the afternoon staff? Is that why you were in the parking lot yesterday?"

Ben has the decency to blush even though I'm kidding and completely understand. No way in hell I'd make it through the day without more than one caffeine fix.

"Well, not every day. Most of the time, I try to get my Americano with you in the morning, but some days are better than others..."

He trails off and I nod my head in sympathy.

"If it's only once in a while, I can forgive you," I say with a wink. "But, for now, you can make it up to me by answering my questions!"

I rub my hands together, gleefully and a concerned look crosses Ben's face.

"I promise it won't be anything too scandalous."

Ben sighs and that broad chest of his rises and falls under the weight of his jacket. The dreamy part of my brain wonders what it would like to rest my head on that big, broad body. Legs all tangled. Preferably naked, but I'm not picky. And I do my best to shut down the fantasy before I make a fool of myself.

"Ask your questions," he relents with a little wave of his hand.

"Don't act so put out," I grin as my eyebrow quirks. "You get to ask questions back. Okay, so, question the first! What's your favorite TV Show?"

Ben cocks his head to the side, eyebrows coming together as he considers his answer.

"I don't watch TV—" I start to squawk, but he shakes off my horror. "I don't watch TV often, I prefer movies. How about my favorite movie?"

"No fair! You're leading the question, but I'll concede if you tell me your favorite terrible movie," I say while wiggling my eyebrows as he grins back at me.

What an absolute shit! He is way too precious. This could end very badly for me if I let things get too serious.

"I don't watch terrible movies," he argues, but I'm not buying it.

"Bullshit, Ben. Everyone has at least one movie that's objectively terrible, but they love it anyway. So, let's hear it. What's yours? I promise I'll only be a little judgy about it."

Ben lets out a soft groan and his head falls back, which shouldn't be as sexy as it is. But here I am, staring at his neck and wishing my lips were all the fuck over it.

"Okay, but you can't tell anyone."

I blow him a kiss and give him a wink as I promise, "Not a soul. I'll take it to my grave."

"Willow," he sort of mumbles and I groan.

"Okay, one: Willow is amazing. And two: I never pegged you for a fantasy fan. Interesting," I reply while I mull this over in my mind.

"Are you even old enough to know what Willow is?"

"Um, I grew up during the Blockbuster Video era, too. And there's no way you're that much older than I am. Incidentally, and this doesn't count as one of my questions because it's your fault, but how old are you?"

I guessed late twenties from his coffee order and his looks and I'm bang on as he confirms my guess: "Twenty-eight."

"See! You're only six years older than I am. Anyway, next question!" I move on, but Ben interrupts.

"Not so fast," he says while pulling my hand into his lap.

"What?"

"It's my turn to ask. What's your favorite terrible movie?"

I scrunch my nose at him. "I'm hopelessly addicted to RomComs, so I have an essay prepared..."

I'm only half kidding.

Ben laughs and gestures, big hand rolling in the air, urging me on.

"Hoookay. Pretty Woman, Sleepless in Seattle, You've Got Mail, Clueless ... I could go on, but I won't," I trail off because I really could on forever.

Just because I am somewhat of an emotional recluse doesn't mean I don't dream for more—even if it's unrealistic.

"Those aren't too terrible," he offers and I laugh.

"Thanks for that. Okay, your turn for a question."

His fingers tease mine as he thinks. "Cats or dogs?"

"Easy, cats! But I love dogs too, so... wait. Both? You?"

"Cats, but dogs are fine when they're with their owners and on a leash," he explains.

"That's weirdly specific, but okay. My turn again! First kiss—go!"

He takes way longer to answer than I expected he would. Apparently, this memory means a lot to him and I kind of feel a little bad for asking it.

Eventually, he starts, the beginning of a smile curling the corner of his lip.

"There was a girl I knew. We went to the same prep school, though her family went through some hard times, so she eventually ended up leaving. The day she left, she kissed me. I never saw her again but, at the time, I hadn't realized what she meant to me—not until it was too late. Now, I try to be more aware and take opportunities when they arise."

I don't really know what to say to that. How to tell him that my first kiss was Errol O'Connor in elementary school after I wrestled him to the ground during break?

"Wow. Okay. Thanks for sharing with me, Ben. Do you still think about her?"

Ben laughs. "I was twelve, but it did change my perspective in life for the better, I think. What about you?" Ben urges as he nudges a little with his shoulder while his fingers gently stroke mine.

"Urm. It's not quite so life-changing."

"Tell me anyway," he urges.

With a sigh, I tell him, "I wrestled a boy I fancied to the ground after he said I couldn't and then he kissed me."

"That's pretty adorable," Ben chuckles.

"Yeah, that's just childhood me. Rough and tumble, or something like it."

"Sounds as if you and I would have gotten along. I was always getting into fights as a kid."

"Maybe, or maybe we would have fought with each other," I suggest.

Ben gives me a long look, those warm brown eyes locking with mine as he says, "I think it would have been worth it."

Suddenly, I lose every thought in my head. Ben clears his throat before he stands up, tugging me along with him.

"Want to go for a walk?" he asks and I nod, grateful I don't need to think up something meaningful to say when my stomach is full of butterflies.

We walk along the sidewalk, talking as the world passes us by. The day is nice enough—not quite sunny, not quite cloudy—so being outside isn't too much of an issue aside from a slight chill. I should have worn a jacket, but Rose's jumper was too nice to cover up.

As we walk, I notice that there's a cute stationery store that catches my eye, but I decide that I don't want to bother Ben with my hobbies on our first date. To my surprise, he asks whether I'd be interested in going in.

"I'd love that! I draw in my free time," I reveal.

I look up at Ben and watch as his lips open and close a little, as if he's considering saying something, but decides against it. I shove him a little with my shoulder and he gets the point.

"I don't want to give the wrong impression, but I've been a fan of calligraphy since I was a teenager." He looks somewhat embarrassed to make this confession but I find it endearing as hell.

"Alright, and what kind of impression would that give?"

"That I'm not as cool as you thought," he jokes.

"Let's get this straight, Ben. I've never thought you were cool. Handsome, yes. You're way too shy to be a cool guy, and I love that about you. Though, I guess this kind of does make me fancy you even more, which I guess makes you cool to me? I don't know. This is confusing. Whatever. Calligraphy is awesome and I don't think less of you for liking it?"

I am fucking babbling and, judging from the look on Ben's face, he's unsure what to make of my declaration. But instead of making me feel bad about it, he pulls me close and places a kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks, Rey."

It's not much, certainly not a declaration, but his actions and words mean the world to me. I want Ben to feel comfortable with me. It seems as if this is something he needs in his life. I imagine, being as big as he is and with such defined features, the world hasn't always been kind to him.

Now, how to tell him that I'd love to trace the path of his moles and freckles with my lips and tongue? Yeah, maybe I'll save that particular declaration for a second date.

Ben and I enter the store and separate. He looks at the calligraphy supplies while I check out some charcoal pencils and gorgeous paper I have to resist touching.

Neither of us buys anything, but the shared moment feels significant for its simplicity. This is something which holds meaning for both of us and I love that I get to experience it with him.

Time passes quicker than I'd like and pretty soon I have to leave.

"I have some studying to do tonight and I have to get up for my shift in the morning," I explain as we make our way towards the car park.

"I understand. Can I drive you to your apartment?" Ben offers and I grin.

"Yeah, that would be awesome," I agree.

My place isn't far, but I'm not really ready to end my time with Ben yet. He leads me to his car and opens the door for me, which I appreciate. I can't think of the last time anyone opened a car door for me. This time, I manage to put the seatbelt on by myself, which is kind of disappointing because I enjoyed feeling the brush of his hands against my hips when he'd done it for me.

The ride over to my place is rather short and quiet, but I'm pleased to find he remembers where my apartment is. I'm about to say goodbye when Ben parks and moves to get out of the car with me.

"You don't have to come up…," I start to say, but Ben waves me off.

"I'd like to, but only if you don't mind? Just to walk you to your door," he assures me.

Looks as if he doesn't want this to end either... I think to myself. Okay, one small indulgence for us both.

As we make it to the building entrance, I pull out my keys and wave the fob against the sensor. The door chimes as it lets us both in. Ben walks me up to my apartment. I'm half-embarrassed that he's going walk through my mid-twentieth century apartment building, half thrilled that he's so sweet.

"It's probably not as nice as you're used to," I comment while leading Ben towards the stairs.

"I like it," he says. "Reminds me of the place I had when I first came to the city."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah, I didn't have much when I first came here, but after I started with Snoke Investments, things started to change for me."

The way he says it makes me wonder if the change was both good and bad, but I don't want to prod at old wounds. I'll let him tell me more about his life when he wants to and, besides, it was such a lovely day and I'd hate to ruin it by making him relive old pain.

On the third floor, I head towards the apartment, but I pause before opening the door.

"I'd invite you in, but my room's a mess and I don't... invite men in on the first date?" It comes out like a question because there's a huge part of me that kind of wants to invite him in, except also a part of me that's kind of worried that I'm going to set myself up for disappointment if I don't take things slow.

"I understand," he says, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. "What about jumping into a man's lap? When do you normally reserve that for?"

I scrunch my nose up at him and poke his way too hard—Seriously, is he made of adamantium?—chest.

"So, I'm slightly impulsive, okay? Can you blame me?"

Ben cocks his head to the side and looks down at me. "No, I guess I can't fault you there," his deep voice rumbles. "I find myself breaking every one of my rules when it comes to you, as well."

Just like that, I'm in over my head. Just like that, I'm regretting the decision not to throw myself at this wildly attractive man, right here in my hallway.

I take a deep breath and the flat of my palm joins my finger as I can't resist the urge to touch him through the fabric of his corded jumper—sweater.

Sweater. It's called a sweater in America... I think absently. Doesn't much matter what it's called when all I want is to see it on my bedroom floor.

"What kind of rules do you have, Ben?" I wonder as my fingers curl against his chest.

"Rules against getting too close. Rules against sharing too much. So many rules," he murmurs.

"Sounds very sensible, if you follow them," I say, voice breathier than I mean it to be.

"I think I've broken almost all of them with you," he muses, head dipping as one of his hands comes up to trail along the curve of my cheek.

I lean into his touch and imagine how it would feel to have those big hands pressed up against every part of me.

"Who are you protecting yourself from?" I wonder out loud.

I've not had the easiest go of it, in life or in relationships, and I have similar rules in place to keep my heart from being trampled on and, mostly, to keep from being broken again.

"Everyone," he admits with heartbreaking honesty.

"I want to be someone you don't have to protect yourself against, Ben," I offer because I mean it.

The more time I spend with this man, the more I feel that we have a genuine connection, something that runs deeper than physical attraction, though that is strong as well.

"I think... I'd like that too, Rey."

I almost physically melt at his words. The emotions that course through me are so overwhelming I have a hard time containing them. I don't know whether I want to laugh, cry, scream, or drag him into my apartment and never let him out again.

We wait. Breathless moments passing between us as we share space and breath.

He doesn't kiss my lips.

I want him too. And maybe he knows that. Maybe that's why he doesn't.

Because oh, how I ache for him. And, oh, how this will keep me thinking of him long after he's gone.

The men—boys really—that I've had before, they're blotted out behind the imposing figure of Ben Solo. He reminds me of some great ethereal being, one that's just this side of human. I half get the impression that there's an immortal creature lurking within his big body, and at any moment he'll snap, revealing his true self. Something magical. Wondrous. And entirely unreal.

And there's a wild part of me, heathen and glorious, that dances in my dreams, hoping to awaken this uncanny being. I shouldn't encourage this. He's from a different world than I am, one that's rich and beautiful, where ugliness and poverty are abstract concepts that can be quashed with phrases like, "If they only worked smarter and not harder," or "On some level, they want to be poor."

I don't belong in such a world. He doesn't belong in mine. His car and his coworkers and his workthe world he belongs to—remind me of that fact and yet, here he was, with me. Hands on my body. Lips brushing against my shoulder as I hold all the cards and keys to my home.

I want him and he wants me, but there's a certain kind of power in that wanting—a heightening of expectations. I want to draw it out even as I want to revel in what I'm sure is to be an absolutely soul-shattering time with Ben.

We both stop, both breathing hard, as we hesitate. He doesn't pull his lips from my skin, so when he finally breaks the silence, his words rumble through my entire being.

"Tell me what you want, Rey."

My eyes slip closed.

I want and want and want and want. More and more and more, my mind reels with the possibilities for today, tomorrow, and years to come.

"I want to make this last...," I say, almost without thinking.

And gods, he presses the bridge of his nose along the curve of my throat, nuzzling up to behind my ear as he breathes, "Whatever you want."

I can feel the blood rushing through my veins and I take a breath to steady myself. When he pulls away, I feel the loss of his touch as sharply as a punch to my gut.

I almost tell him that I'm a fool, that I'll do anything to keep him near me, to get him inside me. But I can't. I won't. My heart isn't whole and the pieces that remain are vulnerable.

I have to protect myself, first and foremost, because I am well aware Ben could destroy me—mind, body and, soul. And part of me recognizes that I could very well do the same for him.

Will you break me, Ben Solo? Or have I been waiting for someone like you, all this time? Have you been waiting for me?

Ben reaches out and threads his hand into my hair, holding me tight as he steps close and presses kisses onto the top of my head.

One... Two...

He lingers, his body warm and hot, threatening to pull me into his orbit once again.

Ben clears his throat but doesn't pull away, just murmurs against my forehead, "I want this to last too. There is something... Even when I didn't know who you were, I couldn't get you to leave my mind."

My breath catches because I know how he feels. There's an all-encompassing, almost frightening quality to my attraction to him. As if there's more at play than simply biology. It feels timeless, and it frightens me because I hate to have expectations when I've been let down so frequently.

"When can I see you again?" I ask.

It sounds needy, but Ben presses another kiss into my hair as he asks, "Soon? Text me?"

"Coffee at the shop doesn't count," I pout because I know I'm going to be busy once the semester really gets going.

"I'll text you when I get home," he assures me as he pulls away slowly.

I take a deep breath, choke out a laugh and pat him on the shoulder. If I do much else, I'm going to jump him, and that's not quite what I want right now. At least, it's what I keep telling myself.

"Thank you for the lovely afternoon, Ben," I say, shifting my keys into my hand.

"Thank you, Rey."

Ben takes another step back as I turn towards my door. I turn the key in the lock and shift the door open a little before I turn my head and say, "See you soon?"

"It's a date," he agrees. "But not a dinner date."

He was listening to me! I think with glee.

"Event date. Then dinner. You're a great listener, Ben. Now go, before I find a way to make a fool of myself," I say with a little shooing motion.

I don't watch him walk away. It's too much of a temptation, so I duck inside before I can see him go. But I am most certainly not composed. After I close the door, I lean back on it and let out the biggest groan.

"Fuck. Way too hot!" I grumble—way too loudly because a laugh reverberates through the door at my exclamation.

Of course, he's still standing there. I mean, I almost made it through the day without making a huge ass of myself. The universe can't have that, can it?

"... Can you hear me?" I call through the door, but I know the answer to that.

A chuckle rumbles through the thin plywood as Ben answers, "I can hear you."

I sigh. Well, he's pretty much seen me at my worst, so seeing me naked isn't going to be much more embarrassing.

Don't think of Ben naked. Don't think of Ben naked—Not 'til later. Not 'til later.

And, really, it's kind of sweet that Ben had to pause for a tick before heading out too. I suppose I'm having as much of an impact on him as he is on me.

"Text me when you get home," I call out.

"Whatever you want, Rey," he replies.

After a few moments, I can hear him walk towards the stairs. I let out a shaky breath as I take a moment to think.

What do I want?

I decided at the beginning of the semester that I shouldn't get too serious about boys, but Ben wasn't a boy and how serious could it be? We're from different worlds, different countries even. Couldn't this just be a bit of fun for both of us?

Yeah. Sure. Keep telling yourself that you aren't half in love with him already.

As long as I can keep a handle on the other half of me that's still rational, I'll be okay, probably. Okay, so maybe not, but at least I'll have some sexy memories to cling to while I cry myself to sleep after this inevitably blows up in my face?

I groan, kick off my boots and settle in for the evening. Half an hour later, Ben texts me. I know, because I've changed his notification to the sound of a cat purring, which seems fitting to me. I tell myself I'm not going to text back right away, but that's a fuckin' lie. There's no way I can stop myself.

Ben: Home safe, Sunshine.

Sunshine... If anyone else called me that, they'd get a fist to the face, but Ben... He can call me pretty much anything he wants, I think to myself.

Me: Not still creepin on my doorstep?

The little notification indicates he's typing back.

Ben: I can't help it if you have a proclivity for profanity.

I laugh a little because he's so formal. I almost feel that I should reply back in the same way, but then I decide to fuck it because it's better if he gets used to my texting now.

Me: I cant help it if ur handsome ¯\_( )_/¯

It takes me longer than I care to admit to copy and paste the shrugging man from Google and into messenger.

Ben: Don't hear that very often.

Me: Really? Fishing for compliments? Maybe if u were more chatty, people would tell you so more often.

Ben: Touché.

Me: Im gonna have a shower and get to bed. Thx for the amazing day

Ben: Any time. Cannot wait to do it again.

Me: Same.

Ben: Goodnight, Sunshine.

Me: Goodnight, Americano.

I think back on my day and get the most ridiculous grin on my face. I'm up early and I know tomorrow is another work day, but if it's a day that includes Ben, I'm sure it'll to be a good one.


Narrator: Rey thought she would have a good day at work the next day. She was wrong.

HAH.

"There is something" is taken from the TFA novelization by the Kylo-Thirsty ADF. And the "Thanks for that," is from TFA the movie.

If you are ever in Washington (the state, DC is another game lol), GO TO MOLLY MOON'S. I think they even have a few Vegan options if that's your preference but, coming as someone who spent more than a few years of their teenaged life working in an ice cream store, THIS IS THE BEST PLACE I HAVE EVER GONE TO. I'm not being paid for this endorsement (GOD I WISH I WAS. I WILL TAKE ICE CREAM AS PAYMENT, MOLLY), but it was seriously the best ice cream I've ever had AND the best staff.

I'm having some formatting issues transferring from word processing software to here, sooooo forgive me. It's the computer's fault.

Come visit me on Tumblr pacificwanderer and bitch about working in coffee shops and retail lol. My inbox is always open if you need it. If you've enjoyed this fic, please feel free to share with a friend or leave a comment in the little box. Thank you for reading and kudos to everyone over at The Writing Den and House Crylo!