Author's Notes…

Hey, everyone! Thanks for all the love so far! Those who read Falling for the Enemy will find an Easter egg.

For Carla

Chocolate

Chapter Eleven

Whatever It Is

Rey stared through the glass window of her dance class and tried not to feel empty inside.

How many months leading up to Poe's wedding had she waltzed across that hardwood floor to help prepare him in secret for his first dance with Rebecca? He'd wanted her to be so surprised, so awed, by his prowess. Even Finn had come to visit them sometimes. And Rey had gone on her own, and after, learning different things because she loved how it—how it… how it had made her feel, and now…

She rubbed at her shoulder where it met the crook of her neck and inhaled.

She'd gotten dressed for it, had been set to go. Then, halfway here, she'd changed her mind. She didn't want to do this anymore. She wanted to cancel. She didn't want the reminders. She'd suffered them enough. Why torture herself any longer?

Her mobile vibrated in her gym bag. Ben was meeting her here. They were going to walk by the river, on the trail there. She'd figured that since he'd wanted to "hang out," and she was already kitted out for it, why not change the destination? She needed the exercise. She'd been blowing off classes, anyway, only coming sporadically now that the wedding had come and gone.

Ben Solo: I'm here.

Rey put her phone back up and rolled her shoulders back. She could do this. She could cancel her classes. Be polite, tell the woman she wasn't going to attend them anymore. All would be well and merry, and she could go on with her life.

She stood there for another five minutes.

"Dancing, huh?"

Startled, Rey turned to find Ben beside her. He had his hands in his pockets, clothed in athletic gear like her. It was odd to see him in it, but it had been their chosen activity for the day. She liked the way his long-sleeved black shirt fit over his chest, as it highlighted how chiseled it was. The pants were matching in color and half-covered well-worn trainers.

"Ah… sorry. I suppose I lost track of time," Rey said apologetically.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

She flushed, not wanting to tell him. But in the end, she drew another breath and did so. "I'm canceling my classes. I started taking them for Poe's dance with Rebecca at their wedding. He wanted to impress her. And I went on my own, too. But now…"

He was silent for a moment.

"…What?" she hedged.

"Nothing."

"It's always something."

"I just think that you shouldn't let him ruin this for you. If you want to keep dancing, then keep dancing."

"You know, Ben—" Growing cross, she kept a grip on the strap of her gym bag and took an aggressive stance before him.

"What?" He raised his eyebrows, unaffected.

"Not everything is so easy to let go of."

"I know. That's why I'm going to dance with you."

Bwuh?

"I'm sorry." She cleared her throat, scratching her head. "I don't think I heard you right. You said you're going to dance with me?"

"I told you my mother was involved with politics. I know how." That carefree demeanor he'd adopted around her crumbled slightly into defensiveness. "And I'm a successful author. I go to parties."

"And you dance," Rey deadpanned.

"Yes, Rey, I dance," he drawled. "Now are we going to go in there or stand out here letting that asshole destroy something else you love?"

"Remember the basics, people! T-A-N-G-O!"

"Do you do this for all the girls?" Rey muttered. So far, the instructor had left them alone with only a remark about Ben's "perfect form."

"Waltzing?"

"No, dancing," she frowned.

He chuckled. "I know what you meant. And no. Only when I have to, which is almost never, thank fuck."

"If the lady makes a mistake," the instructor was saying as she walked around the room, adjusting couples' arms here and there, "it's considered her fault. My suggestion for this is to ensure you have a good dance partner."

Light laughter spattered around the room.

"A beginner's class," Ben observed. "What do you normally take?"

"Everything," Rey said. "I want to learn everything."

"Intriiiguing," he replied. They flared their feet out with everyone else, but in a spectacularly nice move that awed the people next to them. It made Rey's breath catch. There was something about a man who could lead her so perfectly in dancing. "What else have you taken?"

"I don't know…" She kept a mental pace of the T-A-N-G-O method as he backed her around the room. Her foot placements were a little off, but she was quickly learning, as was her wont.

"You can tell me. I won't laugh. Too much."

"That's encouraging." She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Some ballet, some tap, the waltz, standard ballroom dancing, river dancing—"

"River dancing?"

Her eyes narrowed. His lips were twitching, barely containing his laughter. "Don't," she warned. "I'm wearing heels. I'm perfectly capable of doing permanent injury in places you'd rather I didn't."

"But if you did that—" He abruptly did some sort of move she didn't formally know the name of, but it involved bowing her over his arm and leaving her breathless. "You wouldn't be able to enjoy those places anymore, would you?"

"A couple of things…" She fought to keep her heart from quavering as he spun her properly onto her feet. "Don't be so flashy."

He smiled. "The second?"

"That's quite the assumption, that we're having sex again at some point."

He spun her again, pressing her back against his chest. He was fluid in a way that didn't make her trip and humiliate herself. His lips found her ear. "Aren't we?"

She tried not to moan—failed a little. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how she chose to view it—he was the only one to hear it.

And Rey knew then and there that he was going to be the death of her.

And, more importantly, that she wanted it to happen.

"Stop it," she hissed. "If you keep showing off, she's going to call you out on it."

"We'll do it her way, then. Weeks of the basics, right here." He cradled her body to his, molding them together in ways that made her hot all over. "Are you ready?"

"No!"

Without further warning, they were off to the center of the room.

Oh, God, she was going to make an utter fool of herself.

"Don't worry," he murmured. "I won't let you fall."

"Oh, yes, that's very reassuring—"

He brought them into a standard starting position. Their arms weren't fully extended, like films often portrayed. His hand was safely where it should have been on her back, her hand near his shoulder. There was a devilish gleam to his eyes. How could he do that? Make her excited and full of dread at the same time?

"You keep bringing up clichés," she breathed. "You realize this is another one? The man shows off his considerable skills at dancing?"

"You two—" the instructor called.

Ben pushed.

It was true—he didn't go beyond anything Rey hadn't learned already. But classes were broken into pieces, partners were exchanged to keep it even, and she couldn't precisely practice on her own with this one. Not to her satisfaction. It wasn't as fun that way. And here Ben was, taking all of those moments and speeding past the rest of the process, throwing it all together into one seamless transition.

She prayed she'd be able to keep up.

Not very far into guiding her, they'd gathered an audience. Her face was burning red. And, admittedly, she was a bit turned on. That feeling only developed as the tango continued, their feet pacing rapidly over the floor, her heels clicking. She was vaguely aware of making a few mistakes, yet they were so minute with how skilled he was. It helped that he was staring into her eyes. Drowning in them like this, she…

Everyone made room for them. By then, she was smiling. By the end, she was grinning.

"I don't know most of what we did," she was laughing as she gathered up her things into her gym bag. She was sweating a little and had already gone through a bottle of water. The instructor had scolded them lightly and class had resumed. She was wrung out with exhaustion now that it was over. "Sorry about ditching the river walk."

"Don't be sorry." He shrugged.

"Yeah, but I know it's better than being stuck here—"

"Stop." He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them as he kissed her forehead. "I'm here for you." He picked up her gym bag for her. "No matter what we're doing."

She wanted to make a wry comment—there were so many openings for that. No matter what? But the truth of the matter was that she was touched, and it locked up her throat.

"Ben?"

"What's up?"

She cupped his cheek in her hand, stubble grazing her palm, and tilted up on her toes, which were snugly back in her trainers. She studied his face from up close, which she'd done a thousand times already. It had been a week since he'd spent the night, since she'd seen him last. Not that they hadn't been texting constantly until she was free.

"So are you going to kiss me or what?" he asked.

"You're so damned rude," she muttered.

And then she put her arms around his neck and pulled him into that kiss.