Author's Notes…

Hey, guys!

The synonyms listed in order for "elated" belong to thesaurus dot com.

For Carla

Chocolate

Chapter Sixteen

I'm Not Freaking Out, You're Freaking Out

Rey had always enjoyed getting a manicure.

It was, after all, time to herself to be pampered, all alone, no interruptions, complete girl time. It was truly the best, a favorite pastime, and with meeting one of Ben's best friends—and, more importantly, his mother—ahead of her, she needed to ensure she looked her best.

So then why had Finn insisted on tagging along with her?!

"Men get manicures, too," he was saying.

"Uh huh," she grunted, the noise earning her a glance from her nail technician. His statement wasn't something she cared to refute. Why bother when it was true? There were three other men in the salon at that very moment.

"I mean, you can see them right over there," he went on.

What was he rambling on about?

"You look incredibly cranky today," he observed.

She paused to give him her most annoyed expression.

"Whoa." He raised his eyebrows. "And what did I do to you?"

"Finn, why are you here?" she demanded in a low hiss, since the majority of the salon was quiet. She wasn't fond of the idea of their entire conversation being heard by the other five customers of the place over the tranquil classical music playing on the speakers.

"Does it matter?" he retorted. "You're my homie. My hombre. My bro. My—"

"I get the idea!"

"Are you hungover again?" he asked with a sage nod. "I get it—"

"I am not hungover!" She took a deep breath—expelled it after she'd given a mental count to ten. "Finn, no offense, but you have been up my arse all week! What is going on with you?!"

"I haven't been up your ass all week!" Finn fired back. "You won't let me!"

Rey gave him a look as the nail technician got out the gel polish.

"Well, you won't," he said defensively. "You have your 'Ben Time.'"

"You know what I mean," Rey replied, in something of a more patient tone as she gathered her composure. "And you know I don't mind spending time with you. But you keep rambling. And you only ramble like an obsessed person when you have something on your mind. So: spill. What's going on?"

"Nothing is—"

"I won't ask again. This is your last chance," she warned.

He sighed. Heavily. "Well… as you know… I've been in a relationship with Rose for several months now…"

Had it been several months now? she thought. That meant it was the same for Ben and herself. Wow. That… well… She didn't know how to feel about that. It was unnerving. But not necessarily in a bad way? She had a lot to think about suddenly.

"Relax your fingers," the technician instructed.

Rey obeyed. Oops.

"…and I'm trying not to freak out…" Finn was saying. He paused. "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh?"

"Yeah. Uh-oh." He lifted his head in one of those "I see what you're doing" nods. "You got that same look on your face!" He leaned into her, lowering his voice in a different manner than she had, like they were conspiring. "You're doing it, too. Freaking out. I'm going out of my mind, man! What do we do?"

"You calm down and stop being so dramatic!" Rey replied. "I'm fine."

"Please relax your fingers," the technician stressed somewhat sharply.

"Yeah, Rey, relax," Finn tried to joke, but it only increased Rey's ire.

"You need to relax, too," Finn's technician remarked wryly. "You're moving all over the place. I don't want to accidentally nick you."

Abashed out of his hyper behavior, Finn grew still, and Rey knew he was blushing. It was in the way he hunched his shoulders up and tried to hide his ears. His fingers, on the other hand, stayed "relaxed" indeed. His nail technician was scarier than hers, and she'd barely raised her voice.

"Could you be anymore obnoxious?" Rey muttered, unable to resist having the last word.

"I don't know, British Chandler, can I?"

Rey looked at Finn.

Finn looked back.

"Does a permanent laugh track run through your mind?" Rey asked him.

"It does, yeah."

"Fantastic."

Bloody fantastic.

But every touch is ooh, la, la, la

It's true, la, la, la,

Ooh, I should be running,

Ooh, you keep me coming for you…!

"Finn's new ringtone?" Ben asked as Rey took her ramen out of the microwave. Her phone was on the counter beside her purse, which he was standing near, and it was loudly playing Señorita by Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello. Ben had entered her flat about two seconds ago, and his eyes were bright. He had something planned. She assumed it was likely related to either the upcoming visit of his friend or his mother.

"He won't stop singing it," Rey replied. She drained her bowl, wincing at the heat emanating from it as steamy water splashed into the sink. "He even told me he sings it in the shower."

Ben's eyes were abruptly laser-focused as they watched her shake a packet of seasoning into the noodles and stir it in with a fork. She raised an eyebrow at him and settled onto a bar stool at the island counter. What was he staring at? It was beef ramen. It smelled delicious. Maybe he was hungry, too?

She was about to offer to make him some when he said, his nose wrinkled, "You can see the grease floating on top of the water."

Rey had had about enough of men for the day. She shook her head. "Well, I'm sorry," she said, and if her tone was somewhat petulant, so be it. "We can't all be best-selling authors and the son of a senator. Some of us can only afford ramen."

Occasionally, Ben had this ability to throw a complete curveball at her.

Now was one of those times.

"I know," he said, coming to stand beside her. "And that's why you should move in with me."

Snorting burning hot ramen juice out of her nose was unpleasant. Equally so was knocking her bowl over and spilling noodles all over the counter.

"Jesus fuck!" she shouted, choking on beef preservatives. Her eyes streaming, she scrambled off her stool for paper towels to clean up the mess. Ben knelt to help her, but she fended him off. She needed a moment to regain her bearings.

He folded his arms and peered down at her as she patted the floor, having finished with the countertop.

"Was that fucking necessary?" he asked, blunt as usual.

"Yeah," Rey rasped. "Yeah. I think so."

"You're freaking the fuck out."

"No. I'm not. I'm fine." What was with the accusations today that she was not okay?!

"Then why is your hand doing this?" Ben grasped her by the wrist. Her fingers were trembling like an addict jonesing for that next hit. "I mean, it's why you dropped the fucking bowl."

"Okay, Sherlock, you caught me!" Cornered, forced to confront her emotions, Rey tossed the dirtied paper towels in with the rest of the rubbish and put her bowl and fork in the sink. She briefly contemplated more ramen and decided against it. She wasn't very hungry anymore.

God, what—what—what was this?!

"It was just a suggestion," Ben said sourly.

"There should be some sort of build up to this!" Rey threw her hands up. "You don't—insult me about my choice of poor-people food and then say, 'And that's why you should move in with me!' Who does that?!" Ben Solo, that was who. Her own question, answered.

Christ, was it hot in here, or was that just her? She wanted to grab her shirt by the front and fan herself with it.

"We've been dating for months," Ben deadpanned. "I think you're amazing. I want to spend all my time with you. You're pretty."

Sometimes, there really were no words, Rey thought as she stared at him.

Wait, no, there were.

She gestured uselessly for a moment, then took a hand, placing it near her head and motioning like a bomb had gone off, like he hadn't had a clue. "You write Victorian romance, and that was the best you can come up with?" Her voice dropped to his low one. "'You're amazing and pretty, Rey.'" She let it return to normal. "That's it? That's all you have?!"

"You're responding pretty fucking strongly to this," Ben remarked.

"You think?!" Rey cried. "You just dropped a bomb entirely out of nowhere—"

"Would this be better?"

"Would what be better?!"

Ben grabbed her and dipped her. She grasped a hold of his biceps so she wouldn't fall instinctively, though she knew he'd never let her hit the ground. Breathless, she stared up at him as his eyes pierced into hers. They were serious, and for a heartbeat, all was silent in her flat except for the rain pounding on the windows and the roof—that, and her labored breathing. Her heart was beating far too quickly. What was he doing?

"Rey," he murmured, lifting one of her hands so that he could press kisses to her knuckles and study her over them. "I utterly adore you. Every moment spent without you is agony."

She turned ten shades of red. She could feel it keenly.

This was a scene straight out of one of his novels.

The reformed rake, wooing his lady love.

"Ben," she protested, highly embarrassed—

And, perhaps, highly turned on, as well.

"I don't think I can go on living separated," he continued. His eyes were smoldering. "I need you with me. Please. Move in with me?"

"Jesus fuck," she said again, at a much lower volume.

"So? Is it better?" he asked with a gleam of mischief coming to his gaze.

"You've been planning this." Her mouth was dry. Other parts of her most definitely were not.

His teeth flashed in a grin as he kissed her and pulled them both into an upright position. "Of course. I can't say that shit on a whim."

"I don't know how to feel," she admitted. She pulled her shirt down from where it had ridden up.

"Hm… I planned this, too. How about… elated, delighted, ecstatic, enchanted, euphoric—"

"Did you memorize the bloody thesaurus?!"

"Possibly."

"Well?" she sighed. "What did you predict my answer to be?"

"I'm not an idiot," he stated. "I'm not going to tell you that."

"Damn it," she whined, throwing herself onto her couch.

He chuckled and dragged his fingers through his fluffy hair. "You really want me to make the decision for you?"

"Yuh huh," she said, her mind still spinning from that novel reenactment.

Ben hummed, rubbing his chin in thought. Then he shrugged. "As your friend Finn says: no take backsies."

"I'll do it if you never say that again," Rey said flatly.

"Then we're agreed." Ben smirked. The cat who had gotten the cream. "You're moving in."

…A carefully laid trap was sprung, wasn't it…? she thought.

Rey grabbed her phone and pulled up Finn's text screen. She'd migrated to her bedroom to have a moment of privacy to deliver the news.

Me: So… I'm moving in with Ben.

Her phone vibrated.

Finn: So… Rose is moving in with me.

Rey's head nearly exploded. Her fingers typed furiously.

Me: How the hell did that happen?!

Finn: You go first.

Me: Pass.

There was no way she was telling him that story yet, and she put her mobile down.

"Chinese?" Ben called across the flat. "There's nothing in your fridge."

"Why do you think I was eating ramen?!" Rey fired back.

Bloody hell, she hoped she'd made the right decision.

All the butterflies in her stomach were making it hard to think logically.

Ben…