Leomae2.0: No way would I have lasted long if I lived back in that time, either. I'm glad you enjoyed the more NSFW scenes. It's not a standard sex scene, but Rey's and Ben's connection make it so they aren't standard people. lol. Things work a bit different for them. This chapter is all during the present day, but I will keep jumping between past and present. The most focus will be put on the present timeline, though. This story is also kind of a slow burn, in that it will take a good amount of chapters before it's over. I'm thinking there might be about 25-30 by the time it's through. Thanks so much for the review! I deeply appreciate it!

Here is the next chapter everyone! As always, there are probably mistakes throughout, which I do apologize for if it annoys you. Some things do slip past me during the editing process. Just how it is :)

Chapter 12: Never Really a Friend

Present Day

Applause erupted inside the dark theater, the stage lights quickly coming back on and the cast coming out individually, taking their much deserved bows.

Seated in the orchestra section, Rey kept up with playing the closing music, but her gaze remained steadily on the stage since she had the piece perfectly memorized. She didn't need to glance at the score once.

Finn, Rose, and Ben came out last together, the three leading characters bowing hand in hand, gathering more applause as the audience went to stand. There were even a few loud whistles. All three of them were elated, but Rey only had eyes for Ben. His smile was so broad, so excited, that Rey found herself with a similar grin.

Everything must have worked in his favor tonight: no seeing those goulish shadows attached to someone in the crowd, no receiving premonitions of someone's death from a single touch, and no sensing other's emotional states to the point of distraction. He'd also been worried about breaking something while in a scene – holding a cup too tight to cause it to shatter, closing a door only to split the wood frame – but had successfully kept his overabundance of strength under control.

Ben just looked so happy. He'd done such an amazing job.

This was what Ben of the past would've looked like if he could've gotten on stage, if he'd had the chance to fulfill his passion for acting.

Ben locked eyes with her as the whole cast lined up side by side, and Rey could've sworn her heart had grown ten sizes, on the cusp of bursting. Having listened to Ben earlier explain some of the things he could do – why he wore the shades and gloves – had made Rey extremely proud of him. Not because he had those abilities, but because he was still standing after everything that had plagued him. He persevered while scared, survived while being beaten down.

While she wished he didn't have to deal with any of those things, it was sort of bonding to know that they both were alike in the way that they weren't like normal people.

Raising their hands and applauding in the orchestra's direction, the cast redirected the crowd's attention to the ones creating the music. The accolades were appreciated, but Rey couldn't take her eyes off of Ben to give the audience any heed.

Ben winked at her.

Rey was a puddle melted onto the floor, sloughing off her chair, there was no way she was still sitting upright–

Oh, yeah, no, she was somehow still holding her bow and playing her cello, that melting sensation having been more mental than physical. But Ben had that effect on her. One look, a smile, even a wink caused her to liquefy.

The cast took a united final bow before waving to the crowd, curtains closing right as the music crescendoed and ended.

Stage lights were switched to the regular theater lights, marking the opening night officially over.

It was like a bubble bursting and reality sharply manifesting back in as those in the audience started gathering their things to leave. Rey quickly placed her concert cello back in its hard case, putting it on its side on the floor. As she left, all the other orchestra members congratulated one another on a successful evening, high fives going all around.

Rey told them she'd be back for her cello, she just wanted to go backstage for a moment.

She exited out of the theater with the audience, going through the front, but rounding off to the side of the building to get to the back door. Old stage furniture, used set walls that were past their prime, and a lot of other broken down pieces were thrown into a large pile against the chain link fence that surrounded the perimeter of the back parking lot. Sometime in the next few weeks, a dumpster was to be rented to get rid of it all. No one was holding their breath on that one.

As if he knew she would come looking for him, Finn was waiting in the dimly lit alleyway, still dressed in his costume of a casual gray suit from the 1920's. Having arrived in the knick of time to get changed and start the play, he hadn't had time to talk, which he made clear in a quick text that they needed to do just that after everything was over.

Rey threw her arms around him, still riding the excitement of opening night going so well. "Congratulations," she told him. "You did such an incredible job."

"Thank you, peanut," he said, smiling at her as he pulled away. "I think I almost threw up twice from the nerves, but hey, I'm just glad I didn't forget any of my lines. And no one else did either, which was a miracle."

"I was so nervous about Spencer, but he pulled through."

"We were all praying he would. But honestly, that boyfriend of yours stole the show."

"All of you were great–"

"We all did a good job, I agree. But it's totally okay to acknowledge that Ben is super duper talented and the best actor up there."

"It's not a competition," Rey teasingly scolded. "But I guess if it were–"

"He'd get first place."

Rey nodded enthusiastically, her giddiness hard to contain. "And Ben and Rose, wow, they were on fire, don't you think? It was like their chemistry just clicked tonight and it was so convincing they had feelings for each other. I was so impressed with them both."

"Yeah… yeah," Finn said, looking down at his shoes, shuffling one foot back and forth, "she did a really good job. It was, uh, yeah, pretty convincing. Almost like they've–"

"Ben swore to me nothing has ever happened between them, Finn," Rey assured him, noticing he was trying to not look jealous.

"I know, I know. It was just… it was like they brought their A game tonight and it just"– he shrugged, holding it for a long moment– "made me wonder."

"Well, if it made you wonder, then they did a phenomenal job at playing their characters, wouldn't you say?"

Finn nodded, but his jubilation had tampered down to something more morose.

Some of the backstage crew came out the door, laughing and talking with one another. Finn pulled Rey off to the side that was less lit, more near the gate that led to the rear parking lot and out of anyone's way. Or earshot. "So you gonna tell me what happened with Ben today?"

Rey took a deep breath. "Really, I told you everything in the texts."

"You sent me, like, a hundred of them."

"Yeah, so you could get every last detail." The duh went unsaid.

"From what I gathered, you told Ben about your shared past, about the things you can do, and a bit about Armitage. But you didn't tell him everything."

Rey tensed. "No. I… I couldn't. I couldn't admit to him how much I screwed up. It would hurt him too much. And I think he's already overwhelmed with what little he does know."

"I'm sure he just needs time to process. Did you… did you bring me up at all?"

"Just that you're kind of like me, but I didn't explain anything more than that."

"He didn't ask you to elaborate?"

"So far, he hasn't. Probably because he's trying to make sense of everything else I told him." And he'd also been busy with telling her about all the things he could do. Should she tell Finn about that part? Rey shelved that for later. "But he might ask me tonight, since seeing you might have reminded him about it. What do you want me to tell him?"

"The truth, I guess."

"What is the truth?"

"What you know."

Rey frowned, a line between her brows forming. "So, what I know is very little, actually. You haven't told me much about how your side of things works and about the other Reapers, which I understand, because you said you weren't allowed to tell people about it." She was speaking more quickly, feeling more frantic. "And up until now, I guess I've been content with not knowing. I had your friendship and that was really all that mattered to me. But… somehow Armitage is still alive or back or whatever, and since you deal with death and souls, do you know how he… why I saw him?"

Finn was chewing at the inside of his cheek, hands in his pockets, eyes going anywhere but on her.

"Finn?" Rey urged.

He shook his head. "I could get in a lot of trouble."

"But, I mean… it's me. We've known each other for decades. It's not like I'm going to go blabbing to everyone about the secrets of the afterlife or something."

"I know you wouldn't, peanut," he said softly.

"And I won't tell Ben all of it if you don't want me to."

He sighed. "The less you know, the better."

"But…" Rey was getting very close to grabbing him by the lapels and shaking him.

"But Finn, how is Armitage still alive? Do you know how that's possible? Tell me. I need to know. What's going on? Why did I see him?"

He finally pegged her with a straight on stare. "I can't give you an answer."

She teetered back, like she'd taken a punch to the gut. "Can't. Or won't."

Finn struggled to answer, but then movement caught both his and Rey's attention – a tall blond woman stepping out from the hidden confines of one of the old stage walls.

"That would be a 'can't'," she said. "Right, Finn?"

Rey glanced between the woman and Finn, getting in a few rounds of the back and forth. Clearly, Finn hadn't been expecting a visitor.

It took a second before he regained his composure. "What are you doing here?"

The smile that claimed the woman's face was a fake one. "Thought I'd come to support you in your endeavors of being an actor. I really did enjoy the play. Who would've thought you had some talent for the stage."

"I know you," Rey said, taking a closer look at her striking blond hair, pale skin, and the black suit that fit her tall form perfectly. Then, realization. "I ran into you outside the sandwich shop, by the corner. You're a Reaper."

The woman nodded. "I'm Phasma, Finn's supervisor, so to speak. And you shouldn't hold it against him for not being able to tell you everything. He really did swear not to reveal too much to you specifically."

"Me?" Rey questioned. Finn's glare at the woman was absolutely murderous. "Why me?"

Nearing the other Reaper, Finn bit out, "You fucking bitch."

Rey thought Finn was going to deck the woman, his hands balled tightly and his shoulders tensing like he was preparing to throw a punch.

Phasma arched a single eyebrow, and Finn stopped his advance. "Don't you think it's about time you told her?"

"Tell me what?" Rey asked, voice a bit louder.

The Reapers were having a stare down, the woman finding whatever was transpiring more amusing than Finn did. "Do you want to, or shall I?" she quipped.

"I don't… I don't understand what's going on," Rey voiced.

"Not going to say anything?" Seconds ticked by, Finn torn on what to do. Phasma shrugged and said, "Fine, then I'll do it."

Finn launched himself at Phasma so quickly, it took Rey a few seconds to catch up to what had happened. The woman sidestepped his assault, grabbing his arm in the process, bending it behind him and then kicking him hard in the back, his body slamming hard into the stacks of old chairs before his body fell behind a broken and rotting desk.

"Don't you ever try touching me again, you piece of shit," Phasma snarled at him. "And you," she rounded back to Rey, fire in her eyes, causing Rey to brace for an attack. "He was ordered to stay with you from the moment he met you back in Chicago." Finn was yelling for Phasma to stop as he pushed aside the chairs that were on top of him. "He's been spying on you for the higher beings we serve, reporting to them about everything you've been up to. How do you think he gets away with so much? This play, the human clothes he wears, the lack of cases given to him, all the time he has to spend with you – it's because he needs to stay close to you, be in your world and be able to know what you're doing. You're his assignment, always has been."

Discomfort started to form in Rey's chest as she shook her head and said, "No. No, you're lying."

"Am I lying, Finn?"

At some point during Phasma's speech, Finn had managed to get out of the pile of old broken stage furniture, his face looking at Rey in defeat.

"Finn?" she said, voice small, shaking.

"It's true." Some admissions were better at knocking the wind out of you more than a punch to the gut ever could. "But Rey… I really have been your friend. I had to report on you, yes, but that doesn't change that I care about you and want to help you–"

She spoke around the bile rising in her throat. "You've lied to me this whole time?"

"I never knew how to tell you. I couldn't tell you. You meant so much to me and I didn't – didn't want to lose you. Please, Rey." He reached out to her, but she stepped back. Took another. And another, until she was running away, through the back stage door and in search of someplace for reprieve.

She locked herself in the single stall bathroom.

Rey couldn't speak, could barely form a coherent thought, her mind cycling through emotions faster than a child flipping through radio channels. She'd gone from such a secure level high, to standing on the rocky ledge of a mentally unstable cliff so quickly, that her entire state of being was having a difficult time deciphering what the hell just happened.

Betrayal.

She'd been betrayed. By her friend. Her brother. She'd thought Finn was her family. He told her as much so many times.

"No," she growled, wiping harshly at the tears leaving tracks down her cheeks. "Stop crying. No crying." In the mirror, she looked at herself squarely in the eyes, attempting to find some strength to keep the inevitable mental breakdown on pause.

Back to square one she went: being alone.

Though… was she really alone?

She needed to find Ben.

Eyes still a tad bloodshot, cheeks somewhat blotchy, she decided that was as good as she was going to appear and left the bathroom. She discovered Ben wasn't backstage, nor in the men's dressing room. A crew member told her he'd seen Ben go through the entrance that led to the curtain pulley, which would allow him to just walk into the main seating area of the theater.

He probably thought she was still in the orchestra section and went to meet her.

Rey took the same route as him. The workers who ran the cabaret were cleaning up tables and sweeping, all attendees now gone. She went to grab her cello and secured the case onto her back, heading through the lobby and out to the front of the theater.

Rey stopped. The double doors closed behind her.

There were small groups of people congregating on the pathways and sidewalk, family and friends of those who participated in the play. But Rey paid them no mind. Her eyes were steadily staring at Ben, dressed down in his casual black sweatpants, dark hoodie, a beanie, and his favorite pair of Jordans sneakers. A woman was talking to him, and Rey had to admit, she was drop dead gorgeous: long black hair, model sharp cheekbones, big lashes, long legs, impeccable cream skin, and the cut on her skin tight shirt so low, her perfectly round breasts almost overflowed out of the fabric.

If the word sexy had a picture in the dictionary, this woman's image would be on it. Full body shot and all.

The woman got closer to Ben, reaching out and touching his arm. He didn't brush her off, just listened intently to whatever she was saying.

An attempt at taking a deep breath didn't quite work out, Rey feeling like half the oxygen in Brooklyn had up and disappeared.

She just lost her best friend, and never wanted to talk to Finn ever again for being such a fucking snake and a liar. The only thing holding her together was knowing she had Ben. But did she actually have Ben?

He'd alluded to being somewhat of a playboy in his past when he had last lived in New York. Had that fact stung? Of course, but Rey never thought she would need to be smacked over the head with the proof of it. Rey very much never wanted to meet any woman Ben had had sex with.

Surrounded and boxed in by that black-hole of loneliness, Rey's past came at her with a devouring bite, replacing the reality before her eyes and sucking her back to the one day she never wanted to relive: finding Ben dead. It always started at Ben's death, then kicked her off that ledge and plunged her into the memories of having to walk this Earth without him, without anyone.

Rey didn't like being alone.

She didn't like not having anyone to talk to.

She didn't like having no one to rely on.

She couldn't live like that again.

God… Finn really had betrayed her, hadn't he. Like, all that stuff with Phasma had really just happened. Such a revelation was proving to be too big to process completely, the heft of it emotionally clogging up her brain.

Trying to control the urge to vomit, Rey glanced around, trying to find an escape route. Just as she was about to turn around and go back inside, Ben noticed her and called out her name.

It was going to take everything in Rey to hold it together. God willing.

()()()()()

Ben felt like he was riding one of the best highs of his life, and none of it had to do with drugs. This one was organic and pure and was rooted in a sense of joy he hadn't felt for over a decade.

He'd done it. He got through the play, remembered every line and cue and had remained focused. Right as that curtain closed after bows, when all the cast were silently cheering on stage, Ben had hurried to the dressing room and had screamed with unfiltered happiness into a throw pillow on the couch.

Maybe cried just a little, though he wasn't about to tell anyone that.

He loved acting. Everything it entailed resonated with him on such a deep level, it almost felt like he was always meant to do this. And it was all his fault that he could never pursue it professionally. He never wanted the fact that he had almost killed a fellow classmate at Juilliard to ever come out.

But small community plays, while not as challenging for him, would be enough. He could see himself finding real happiness here and making a fulfilling hobby out of it. He was fortunate to have that, at least.

Ben had started to change just as the other male cast members trickled in. He noted that Finn was not among them.

"Some of us are going out for celebratory drinks," Spencer said as he finished tying his sneakers. Ben pulled on his hoodie, and then looked to the mirror as he fixed a black beanie atop his head. "You can join us if you want. It's only a couple blocks away."

The invitation was unexpected, seeing how Ben didn't know the other actors well. "I'm just going to head home," Ben told the guy. He grabbed his duffle before heading out. "Thanks, though."

He'd much rather come off as an introvert who didn't like to go out, than have other people know he was an alcoholic. Let them all think he's antisocial… which, well, wasn't a far off assessment for the kind of person Ben had become.

Younger Ben – he partied and socialized with way too many people. Older Ben – he ate his vegetables and realized that people kinda fucking sucked. Or he sucked. Actually, both. There was plenty of suckage going around for the human race, honestly.

Outside the men's dressing room, cast and crew mingled about, talking enthusiastically and congratulating each other on getting through the opening night. Rose caught his eye, and she pushed past a few people to get to him.

She was still in her costume of a tweed jacket, dark skirt, and low heeled shoes. Throwing her arms around him, she talked a mile a minute, so happy and joyous over having accomplished something she's always wanted to do.

Eyes getting misty, she dabbed at the corners and said, "I couldn't have done it without you, Ben. Seriously. All the advice you gave me and the acting methods you told me about helped me a ton."

"School was good for something, I guess."

"You both had amazing chemistry up there," Jenna interjected, having overheard their conversation. "It's hard to believe you're only really good friends."

Ben's face grew hot.

Rose came to their defense. "If we can fool you, then that means the audience bought it as well. But really, for the millionth time, we are just friends."

"If you say so."

Rose faced Jenna more head on. "I do say so, and if you even think about starting a baseless rumor about–"

"Have either of you seen Rey?" Ben interrupted, partly because he didn't like where this conversation was headed. Theater drama and gossip was no longer something he wanted to be a part of.

Both answered in the negative.

"I'm going to go find her. And really, great job tonight," he said directly to Rose, making her beam with a smile. "I'm proud of you."

She went in for another hug, her arms wrapping around his middle. "I'm proud of you too, Ben." She cocked her head back to look up at him. "You really were magnificent on stage."

Then he did something he hadn't done since Rose was a teenager: he booped her nose with his forefinger and used her childhood nickname. "Thanks, Rosie Posie."

Ben made his way to the exit that would lead him to the curtain mechanism, trying to hurry so he could meet up with Rey. There was something he needed to do, he realized. Or say to her, rather. In the commotion of finishing up some things at work and hurrying to the theater, it had dawned on him literally at a random moment right before he went on stage that today was the 8th of May… and just that morning, Rey had told him she'd been born on May 6th. They had spent time together at tech rehearsal on the 6th, had been texting all throughout the day, and she never hinted that it had been her birthday.

He should do something. At the very least, wish her a happy birthday. He hadn't had time to buy her anything since he literally had this realization a couple hours ago. But what did you get someone turning 125, who's probably had everything they've ever wanted by now?

Of course, his thoughts had gone straight to… drumroll… Birthday Sex. Kylo, of course, nixed that suggestion, the everlasting kill-my-vibe shadow pointing out all the reasons they had agreed that sex with Rey was not a great idea at the moment.

But Ben would make it all about her, focusing on her pleasure entirely, having her orgasm at least three times – two just from his tongue. God, he bet she tasted divine–

No. Nope. No sex. Not even oral. Kylo was right, and Ben's weak ass needed to firm the fuck up.

Kylo being the more responsible and steadfast one out of the two of them was not something Ben had seen coming.

With all carnal activities having been put on the back burner, it was time to turn to the old fashioned way of celebrating birthdays: presents.

Ben had started to text the manager of his building during intermission to see if the guy was down with helping him out. Ben had only met Steve the day he moved in, but the guy seemed cool and was surprisingly young and eager to help the tenants with whatever they needed.

Enticing the guy with a hefty sum of money, he agreed to procure what Ben had requested. Seeing how it had been 8 p.m. and businesses were starting to close, a good portion of the money would of course go to whoever Steve could find to give him the things on the list.

Ben gave the guy permission to use the elevator and door code to put the surprises on the table in his foyer. He was still waiting for Steve to text him that everything was ready to go.

When Ben stepped out into the main seating area, Rey wasn't in the band section. He walked over, seeing her cello case by her chair. The drummer was still there and told him she hurried outside through the front after the play had ended.

There were still a lot of people in the front lobby, Ben having to carefully push through. He had his gloves on, but no sunglasses. Some recognized him, slowing down his efforts of getting outside and showering him with compliments to the point where he had no idea how to receive them. All it did was make his ears grow hot and his cheeks no doubt developed a deep blush.

Ben smiled and nodded, feeling claustrophobic as more people caught onto him being the one to play the character of Lombard.

"Have you thought about trying to get on Broadway?" one person asked.

An older woman: "Out of everyone, you were by far the best performer. The most believable."

Some random guy: "Dude, you fucking committed. I got teary eyed at some parts, you were that good."

Ben relayed his gratitude, for truly, he was appreciative. But, like, when everyone started getting too close, boxing him in, their myriad of emotions bombarding his own, he had to apologize and leave. He was definitely not used to all that.

Last thing he needed was to find out someone in that crowd was going to meet their demise soon, or that there was a shadow entity attached to them. Those things gave him the chills hardcore.

Fresh air hit Ben's face and felt good in his lungs as he took in a few deep breaths. He bowed his head and slightly sagged his shoulders in an attempt to be less noticeable, not making eye contact with anyone that was loitering outside. He parked himself on the furthest bench from the entrance. Ben didn't think he could handle anymore accolades without turning into an awkward mess.

He pulled his phone from his pocket. Steve had pulled through, sending him a thumbs up. Ben shot him a quick text of gratitude.

Then he got into his contacts, about to call Rey when–

"Ben?"

His head snapped up, immediately recognizing that voice.

Standing in front of him was Bazine Netal, the sponsor he had back in LA, a large smile plastered across her face. She was perfectly manicured – makeup done, hair long and straight, tight shirt and jeans that fluidly hugged her lean body. Ben had always appreciated her beauty for what it was, and that's as far as it ever went, his mind never dwelling on it.

With Rey, however, he remembered every one of her particulars – every freckle, every hair, every curve of her lips and the kaleidoscope of specks in her hazel eyes. All Bazine had ever been was a fuzzy memory of an abstract painting that was photographed through the lense of an out-of-focus camera.

"What is happening right now?" Kylo questioned, confused.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Ben said before he could actually censor himself. Bazine flinched. Ben stood, apologetic. "Sorry. I, uh… you just surprised me. I wasn't expecting to see you..."

"...ever again," Kylo finished for him.

Bazine recovered quickly, her smile softening. "Well, I heard through the grapevine that you were trying your hand at acting again. So I thought I'd come out here and surprise you by seeing the play opening night."

"You definitely got the surprise part of this down."

She neared him, staying just outside his personal space, her eyes sweeping up and down his full height. It felt a lot like being scanned at an airport, an invisible beam shooting through his layers of clothing and skin, right down to his bone structure. Ben didn't like it.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Good," he curtly answered.

"You knocked it out of the park tonight. Like, you were phenomenal."

"Thanks. Everyone really did an amazing job. Group effort, you know."

She took another step, Ben's internal radar firing up at not wanting her close. "You really do have a natural talent for acting."

"I don't know if I'd say 'natural'. I had to work really hard, like everyone else."

"Humble and talented – a perfect combo." Combo for what? Kylo asked, irritated. "But you did go to Juilliard. You know more than the other people on that stage, and it shows."

Ben did poorly at containing his frown. He didn't like the comments she was making, insinuating that he was so above the other actors. That he was better than them because of where he went to school, which wasn't even slightly true. Simply, she was being passively rude, and he was getting very annoyed.

"Rose was pretty good, though," she continued. Crossing her arms at her chest, it did not escape Ben's notice how Bazine pushed up her breasts, her shirt so low cut, it was a miracle a nipple didn't escape. "Kind of surprised me, like, how convincing you two were with having feelings for each other. It was like you were really, actually attracted to her."

Ben could sense Kylo rolling his eyes. "Has she ever heard of the concept of 'acting'? Ya know, that thing people do in plays?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Ben said, "We were both just doing our jobs up there."

Bazine rolled her eyes. "Rose could've given you a bit more to work with at times. You were putting in way more effort."

"Fuck you, Rose was amazing," Kylo countered. "Ben, this is an acceptable time to be your old self and be a complete dick to her. Tell her to fuck off. Use those exact words."

Panic was rising within Ben, sweat accumulating below his arms. He wasn't accustomed to being outright rude to Bazine. But the way she was acting now was so different than their interactions from before. Never had she so blatantly hit on him, and Ben knew that's what she was doing. He'd been enough of a whore in his younger years to recognize when someone had a pair of fuck-me eyes on, and Bazine sure was showing them off in full force.

"She's your long time friend, right?" Bazine asked, keeping up with the conversation. "I remember you saying once how she was the most important person in your life at the time. Are you two still close?"

"Yes, and she's still my closest friend," Ben said through a tight jaw. "Why exactly are you here, Bazine?"

Another step forward. She was maybe eight inches away from him, fluttering her long, fake lashes as she breathed out, "Honestly?"

"No, lie to us," Kylo blandly said.

"Yeah, I would appreciate honesty."

The skin between her brows creased with concern. "I'm worried about you."

Kylo scoffed. "Oh, puh-lease. She wants to fuck you. Like I've been telling you since you met her, the only thing she's ever wanted is to get in your pants."

Ben took a step back, but the back of his knees hit the bench. "I'm doing fine."

"You haven't been returning my texts, and I thought you might have slipped up."

"The texts from today?" he asked, confused. "What, did you get a plane ticket in the afternoon and fly here just to check on me?"

"I was actually already in the city. I've been here for a few days now."

"For what?"

"For you."

Kylo drew out a very long wow.

Ben chuckled uneasily through his nose, because this was all getting way too awkward. "Bazine, I thought I made it clear that I no longer needed you as my sponsor."

"You did, but you haven't found anyone to replace me. Have you?"

"Lie," Kylo told him.

But Ben went with the truth. "No, but–"

"So I can still be your sponsor. Problem solved."

"Problem not solved, seeing how you don't live here."

"I do now. I just moved into an apartment on the Upper East Side."

"What?"

Ben didn't even try hiding his shock. "What?"

Bazine picked a piece of lint off Ben's shirt. "After you moved, I thought about it and decided, what the hell, I've always wanted to live in New York."

"So you just moved… across the country… on a whim."

"I moved across the country because you need me." She was right in front of him now, chest almost touching his, her hand clasping onto his arm."I know you do. You've confided in me so much over the years. And I've been there whenever you've hit a low point, that I became so worried about you being so far away from me. From your support system." She licked her lips, voice dipping down a bit. "A man like you deserves someone that's always in your corner, someone who would do anything for you. I'm loyal to you, Ben. I'll always put you first."

Standing there, mouth slightly hanging open, it finally fully hit Ben that Bazine was actually, one-hundred percent interested in him. And fuck, that hurt. Because every conversation they had, every time she listened to him, every time she was concerned or cared or gave him support, it all seemed like an act now. Had any of that been genuine?

It was like Ben was seeing her true self for the very first time, and he couldn't believe how she had manipulated him into thinking she was an actual friend. That she actually gave a shit. All he'd been to her was some sort of conquest, attracted to him for his money and connections and thinking he was a good lay.

And she thought he was a great actor? This bitch deserved an Oscar.

"If you want, you can come to my place and we can talk some more–"

Ben cut her off. "I'm actually seeing someone."

Bazine laughed out a puff of air, as if he'd made a joke. Or she didn't believe him. "Seeing someone like dating, or a hallucination?"

Kylo belted out laughing. "Oh my god, that was a good one, I'll give her that."

Ben glanced around, looking for a lifeline, anything to save him from whatever was going on with this encounter. Finally, he saw Rey turning toward the front doors, cello case on her back. He called out her name, maybe a little too loud.

She turned around. Ben immediately knew something was not right with her. Something was wrong.

He went to her. He palmed the sides of her face, noticing her flinch at his touch. "Are you okay?" he whispered, searching her bloodshot eyes. She'd been crying.

"I want to leave," she said in a tight voice.

Ben nodded. "I'll drive us straight to my–"

"Who's your friend?" Bazine asked, disdain dripping in her voice. Glaring at Rey, her indifference was strikingly obvious.

Ben stood between the two women, instinctually feeling like he needed to guard Rey. "This is my girlfriend."

Bazine sighed like she was impatient. "Girlfriend." She shook her head. "Ben, I don't think it's wise to date right now, especially when you had so many bad habits the last time you lived here. You should focus on yourself–"

"Stop telling me how to live my life," he snapped at her, catching her off guard. "You're no longer my sponsor, and I am not interested in you. Please, do not contact me again. Do you understand, Bazine? Or do I need to be more clear?"

Floundering, Bazine tried to find something to say. "Ben, I–" She went to grab his arm, but Ben pulled back.

"Do not touch me," he told her harshly. "You don't have the right to do so."

Ben didn't give her the chance to say anything back. He gently grabbed Rey's hand and ushered her to the sidewalk, needing to get to the gate that opened to the back parking lot. As he led them both with efficiency and silence toward their destination, passing by lingering cast and crew members, all he wanted was to get home and as far away from the theater as possible.

Last thing he needed was another complication added to his life, and he had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time he heard from Bazine.

()()()()()

Bright headlamps illuminated the car ahead, traffic having grown heavier the deeper Ben drove into Manhattan from Brooklyn. Once he got out of the Midtown tunnel and onto 3rd Avenue, traffic crawled along by inches. Waiting behind a lineup at a light, he surmised that there had to be an accident up ahead, causing delays. But with so many cars diverting to different routes, traffic was bad in every direction.

Ben decided to just stay on 3rd Ave.

The wait would be more bearable if it weren't being done in silence.

Glancing over at Rey in the passenger seat, she had yet to say a single word since they left the theater. With her elbow on the door and her head being propped up by her hand, her gaze stayed out the window, quiet tears dripping down her cheeks.

Ben wasn't sure when she had started to cry. He only just noticed a few minutes ago.

He had turned on the radio when he started to drive, but Rey had turned it off without explanation. Ben was actually a little scared to attempt switching it back on.

Today was becoming a fucking roller-coaster of a day, but Ben figured more so for Rey than him. Lunch had launched her into a massive panic attack from seeing that red headed guy across the street, then she had to brave telling him the truth while fearing he'd think her insane over it, and now… he had no fucking clue what had brought on her current emotional state.

Should he ask? When was the proper time to ask?

Traffic started to move.

The engine of the Rolls Royce purred in near silence, the inside composed of black leather to perfectly set a dark and moody tone. Ben should've added a touch of red like was recommended. Red would've brightened up the inside a bit, maybe illicit a happier atmosphere, which was very much needed at the moment.

Passing the light, Ben came to another stop. He sighed kind of loudly. Rey didn't seem to notice.

Outside of the car was a claustrophobic jungle, buildings encroaching every turn, pedestrians out and about and enjoying their Friday night. Laughter came from the walkway, and Ben watched a group of friends walking and smiling and having a good time. One of them was smoking.

Ben white knuckled the steering wheel. He could fucking kill for a cigarette right about now.

He cleared his throat. "So, uh…" The sound of his voice was like a bomb going off among the silence, but Rey didn't even flinch. "I had the car equipped with 4-corner auto-leveling suspension, which means it has cameras that scan the road ahead, looking for any bumps or potholes or inconsistent leveling of the asphalt. It'll, uh, adjust the suspension so you don't feel much impact."

Nothing. That bit of info got nothing out of Rey. Five hours ago, when he'd been driving them both to the theater from his work, she couldn't stop asking questions about the car. Her fingers had been eager to touch every surface of the inside, her mind a sponge that soaked up every little detail Ben could tell her.

Now, there was not a trace of her excitement from before. It was criminal not to see her smile.

"Rey," Ben spoke softly. Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on her thigh. Her eyes shifted to looking at the contact. "You're starting to worry me. Please… please tell me what's wrong."

She grabbed his hand like a lifeline and brought it up to her face, placing it against her cheek. Her shoulders started shaking first, then her chest expanded from her quick inhales, until finally the sobs propelled right out of her.

Ben reached with his other arm, twisting his torso so he could touch her hair, her shoulder, her back, any part of her that he could. "What can I do?" he entreated. "Tell me… what do you need? I'll get whatever or do–"

The car behind him honked. Traffic had started moving. Ben let off the brake, his free hand going to the steering wheel as he said, "Alright, I'm moving." The fucker behind him pounded at the horn again. "I'm fucking moving, Jesus, calm the fuck down." And then what do you know, they stopped. Again.

Ben glared at the car behind him through the rearview mirror. "I dare you to honk again, motherfucker. Do it."

"Ben," Rey hiccuped out, still curled around his hand.

His attention snapped back to her. "Yes, sorry, I'm sorry. I just…" The second her eyes met his, her pain shining through and blinding him, Ben was at a loss for words.

Her voice was small and strained. "I don't have anyone anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Finn lied to me. This whole time… this whole time I thought he stayed with me because he was my friend. Because he cared." She wiped at her eyes and nose with the back of her sleeve. "But – but it turns out he was told to stay close to me."

"Close to you?"

"To spy on me to… to… I don't know who, but he never really cared about me." Her breathing became erratic. "It was all a lie and I can't go back to that time before I met him. I had no one, I was completely alone and – and I'd rather die than go through that again. I can't… I can't…"

Ben was so fucking confused. It still hadn't been clarified how Finn fit into Rey's life or who he was exactly. There had been a lot to talk about, but not much time to touch every topic earlier in the day. But all the questions swirling around Ben's noggin were gonna need to be tabled for a different time, because Rey clearly needed to be comforted.

Her hands went to her head, fingers digging into her scalp. "I'm nothing… I'm no one…" She banged a palm against her temple, rocking back and forth. "I'm dead – dead this whole time and I–"

Still stopped behind the line of cars, Ben put the Rolls-Royce in park and unbuckled. Rotating his upper body, he freed Rey from her own seat belt and attempted to hoist her over to his side.

She was startled out of sobs, the movement bringing her back to reality for a moment. "What are you doing?" she asked, her torso resting on the middle console.

"Swing your legs over," Ben told her. And then with one strong pull, he lifted from under her arms and placed her in his lap. He adjusted her legs to be on either side of him, the intimate position not going unnoticed from his groin, the friction giving him the faintest tingle.

Not now, he told himself.

Ben palmed both her cheeks and kissed her because he wanted to. Because he hated the things she was saying about herself. Because he just wanted her to feel happy and good and beautiful.

As Ben's mouth moved over Rey's with gentle demand, as his tongue licked into hers, she melted more into him, sighing.

He eased back, their mouths parting with a soft sound. "Please don't hit yourself," Ben softly beseeched. Rey looked at him in a haze, eyes hooded. Behind her, Ben noticed just as the car ahead started moving. He shifted back into drive, Rey nuzzling her face into his neck.

"You're not no one, Rey," he started to tell her just as he passed the car accident that had been moved to the corner of the street. A police officer was directing traffic, a firetruck and ambulance blocking the view of the crushed vehicles, the lights of the cop cars casting streaks of blue and red. Ben braced himself… and yep, there it was, that foreboding feeling of death and that heart wrenching discernment of sorrow. Someone had lost their life in that collision, and someone was mourning for them.

Ben shook it off, for sensing death and someone's grief was just another part of his life he'd gotten used to. Call him insensitive for brushing it away, whatever, he didn't care. If he didn't let it slide off of him, he didn't know how he would keep on going with his own life. He had to cope somehow. That 'somehow' was to leave it behind him.

With the accident and traffic in the rearview, and the officer luckily not noticing Rey in Ben's lap, driving got back to a normal flow. "I don't know why Finn did what he did," Ben continued to speak, "but even if you no longer have him as a friend, you have me. I won't leave you. I swear to you I'm not going anywhere."

He didn't know if she could hear what he was saying, but she seemed to feel it. Some of the tension drained out of her, her body relaxing against him.

There was silence for a minute. Then:

"Even back then, you promised we'd always be together," Rey whispered against his neck.

"But you ended up leaving me anyway."

Ben took a right turn. "I didn't leave you," he corrected. "Someone took me from you."

"I was still left alone, all the same."

"I know. I can't imagine what it must have been like to have endured all those years of loneliness."

She adjusted her head on his shoulder. "I was constantly mourning, and always tired, but my body could never rest. And I tried… I tried so many times to rest."

Ben's heart skipped a beat. "When you say rest, did you… did you hurt yourself? Were you trying to–" Ben stopped, unable to say outloud what he had suspected all day.

"Yes. But nothing can hurt me."

Ben shook his head. "That isn't true. Emotional wounds can run deeper than physical ones."

Rey didn't say anything to that. In fact, she was quiet the rest of the ride back to his place. Ben suspected that she might have fallen asleep, though with Rey having explained to him earlier that sleep was a rarity on her part, it was more likely she just didn't want to talk anymore.

Ten minutes later, Ben stopped at the gate on the side of the building he lived in. Entering a code, it allowed him entrance. Winding down into the brightly lit underground parking garage, he stopped in his reserved spot right next to the elevator.

Rey stirred and sat up, glancing out the window through squinted, swollen eyes. "I still can't believe you pay for parking in this city."

"I'm actually on a wait list to acquire two more spots down here." She looked at him with surprise. "I have some other cars I'm storing at Luke's until I can get them out here. But the bike"–he indicated to the motorcycle next to the Rolls-Royce– "is mine."

She glanced out the passenger side. "A Harley Davidson Sportster. That's a really good bike."

His hands rested on her hips, thumbs going back and forth over her jeans. "It's one of my favorites. I've had it since college."

"Yale?"

"Juilliard. So it's a bit older, but I've been thinking about selling it."

"You can't," Rey immediately said, aghast. Embarrassment of her reaction colored her face a light crimson. "Sorry, it's just a really nice bike. Why would you get rid of it?"

He shrugged. "I have good memories with it… also some bad ones." Bad ones being he picked up a lot of women with that bike. He would love to forget about that time in his life, but the bike reminded him every time he saw it.

"You still ride it?" she asked, her fingers softly playing with the sides of his hair. The air in the car was definitely getting hotter.

"Since moving back, I haven't. But I used to take it on the West Side Highway from Lincoln Center over the 59th Street bridge at ninety miles-per-hour at two o'clock in the morning," he explained with fondness.

"Mmm, that sounds like fun."

"It is. I haven't done it in fifteen years, though."

"And you also have two other cars?"

"Four more, actually."

"F-four," Rey sputtered, not expecting that number. "What are they?"

"An Aston Martin DBS, McLaren Speedtail, a 1957 Ferrari Coupe Boano, and…"

"And?"

The last one was hard to admit, since it had been a very excessive purchase. "Rolls Royce Boat Tail. It's a light blue color, which I wouldn't usually go far, but even I gotta admit that it looks stunning."

It was like Rey had mentally shutdown for a moment, rebooted, and then gave Ben an are-you-fucking-kidding-me kind of look.

"Ben."

"Mmm?"

"Ben."

"Yes?"

"The Boat Tail is 28 million dollars."

Of course she knew that. Of. Course. He was quickly learning just how much she loved anything with an engine.

Ben acted oblivious. "Huh. I didn't notice."

Jaw hinged open, she just stared at him. Ben's smile slowly curved into his cheeks as he opened the door. Rey's face was still in shock over calculating the total price of Ben's little collection as she got out and he followed. Gathering her cello from the back seat, he handed it to her and then grabbed their bags.

"You're rich," Rey stated as she strapped the cello to her back. "Like, obscenely."

Ben quirked a brow. "You alluded to having a bit of money yourself."

"I did?"

"Mm-hmm. When we were heading to the theater in the evening."

"I mean, I do have some, but I–I never really use it."

"You should." Reaching out to hold her hand, he ushered them to the elevator. "You have every right to enjoy life a little."

"I don't enjoy life," Rey said so casually, Ben was taken aback, his pointer finger hovering right above the lift button. "Or, well, I mean… I don't live my life in a way where I can enjoy things."

That didn't sound much better.

Ben frowned, the button lighting up once he pressed it. "You make it seem like you purposefully live that way."

She replied with a short answer meant to turn away any more probing. "I guess I do."

They stood there, hand in hand, waiting for the doors to open.

It was odd how frustrated Ben was getting, but not at Rey. No, it was all directed at the way she lived. He understood how grief could turn even the merriest of people into a walking corpse, but could someone keep that up for over 100 years? There had to be more to it than just losing him. But what else could drive someone to deprive themselves of basic human happiness?

Ding!

The steel metal doors separated. Once inside, he pressed the button for the lobby. On the ascent, Ben smoothed out his expression, not wanting his concern and frustration to be known in the reflection of the doors.

"So, um," Rey started to say, "would you, uh… maybe ever let me take a look under the hood of your other cars?" She glanced up, hopeful. "I wouldn't, like, take anything apart or break anything, I swear. I just want to look."

The corner of Ben's mouth ticked upward. "Whatever makes you happy." Really, at this point, he just wanted her to be happy. To do something that brought her joy. "How about you also take them for a spin?"

She gawked at him in disbelief. The elevator stopped, the doors opening. He guided them down the hall of marble floors, going to the lift at the end that would take them directly to his condo.

"Like… drive them?" she asked, unsure.

Taking his wallet from his bag, he placed it against a scanner that read his key card.

Ben was fully smiling now. "I do believe that is what 'taking them for a spin' means, yes."

They stepped into the lift together. "But I don't have a driver's license."

He winked at her mischievously. "I won't tell if you don't."

Tearing her eyes from him, she looked straight ahead, chewing at her lip. "I, uh…" she didn't continue with whatever she was going to say.

Clearly, she was nervous. Ben brought her hand up to his mouth, giving the skin of her knuckles a soft kiss. The contact seemed to placate her somewhat, her eyes swinging straight to his lips.

"What is it?" he asked against her skin.

"It's just…" She briefly rubbed her lips together. Ben lowered their intertwined hands down between them. "I don't really know how to drive."

Ben chuckled, but cut the noise off quick when Rey glanced at the floor with unease. "Wait, you're serious? I thought you were joking or something."

She shook her head. Lurching to a stop, they had made it to the top of the building. The hallway only held one door directly twenty feet ahead, the space decorated in a way that acted like a lobby: sideboards flanking the walls, a circular table perched in the middle, flower arrangements of tulips and daisies placed on both for an inviting atmosphere.

As they made their way to the wide, white door, Ben said, "But you've been alive for so long, and you've made it quite clear how much you love cars. How do you not know how to drive?"

Rey gently pulled out of his grasp, hanging back by the round wood table in the middle. "Well, back in the day, while women could obtain a license, it was still looked upon as improper for a lady to drive. I mean, my father would sometimes let me practice on some of the dirt roads near our home. But you, um… past you did teach me, too. There was a field near our country house you'd take me to and let me learn there. So, I guess I kind of did learn, but since your… when you passed away, I haven't driven a car since."

"Not once?"

She shook her head. "But I did sit in the driver's seat a few times, held onto the wheel while it was parked," she quickly explained. "Just couldn't get myself to drive it. And, anyway, public transportation like trains and busses and taxis have worked for me just fine. Or I've just walked. On occasion, I'll rent a car and have Finn–." She stopped. Full on halted her speech and hand movement that was midair.

Going to stand right in front of her, he peeled the straps of the cello's case from her shoulders, putting the instrument on the floor. Then Ben wrapped his arms around her, his hands languidly sliding into the back pockets of her jeans. "How about, for tonight, we just forget all the shit that's going on and just spend some time together."

Rey was breathless, obviously affected by Ben's hands on her ass… which was what he was going for. "Time together doing what?" Her palms rested on his chest. "It's almost midnight, and we have a matinee show tomorrow."

"It's at 2. We can stay up a bit."

"I thought you liked to adhere to a set bedtime?"

He breathed in deep. Why did she always smell so good? Like lavender and sweetness. "My bedtime passed while we were at the theater. Plus," he dipped down, burrowing into her neck, "I'll always make an exception for you."

Rey had to clear her throat to speak. "Staying up late, having some coffee today – you're starting to break all your rules since meeting me."

"Next thing you know, I'll be binge eating candy and haven't exercised in a week."

She craned her head to the side, allowing him more room for his lips to travel along her throat. "God forbid you eat anything delicious and let your body rest."

His chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "I've actually been a bit more lax on my rules lately." Drawing back, he looked at her, her lids heavy with arousal. "I want to be with you and have fun, not be a downer while you're with me."

"You know I support you however you want to live your life, even if it comes off as a bit too strict."

"Strict helps me maintain control, which helps me stay away from things that are bad for me."

Biting at her lower lip, she glanced away from him. "But if I'm influencing you to change your routine–"

"You're a good thing for me, Rey." He pulled her closer, his hands cupping a large portion of her perfectly shaped ass cheeks. He wanted to squeeze them, but refrained. "Not bad."

She went in for a full hug, her arms wrapping around him and holding tight. "You'd tell me, though… if you were struggling and you needed more structure in your life? You'd let me know if I was doing anything to affect you negatively?"

"I would." Burying his nose atop her head, he breathed in the sweet smell of her hair. He was probably exhibiting weirdo behavior, but he couldn't stop. And Rey didn't seem to mind. "But don't worry, I'm a big boy who knows how to set boundaries if I need to."

"Good."

While his hindbrain chewed on the various sexual connections him and Rey could make tonight, Ben knew none of them would be made into reality. At least not any time soon. If he was a good man, he'd make it all about Rey, giving her copious amounts of pleasure while he never fully participated. But he knew – KNEW – he would have no control if he went down on her or fingered her or worshiped her breasts.

Sex complicated things. And Ben really didn't want complicated tonight. Truthfully, just being in Rey's presence was enough for him.

"I have a surprise for you inside," he murmured.

Rey flinched her head back, confused. "A surprise? For me?"

Ben nodded giddily. She picked the hard case up by using the handle, carrying it with her as one of his hands remained in her back pocket. Punching in his code and pushing the door open, there was no missing Rey's gasp.

The inner foyer was a quaint 10 x 8 area, a hallway to the right leading to a spare bedroom, a bathroom, and the master, while a corridor to the left opened up to the living room, dining area, and kitchen. In the living room, stairs led to the second floor where Ben kept his office and exercise equipment.

Lowering her cello case by the closet off to the side, Rey covered her mouth. Even Ben was quite shocked at how far Steve had gone with the flowers. On the black sideboard that was against the wall straight ahead, the biggest bouquet of red roses had somehow been secured into a perfect curated half dome. The vase or whatever kind of contraption that held the flowers in place wasn't even visible, the orb of roses way too massive to let it show.

Taking timid steps forward, Rey touched the petals softly, leaning over to lightly give them a sniff. Schooling his shocked expression, Ben went to stand by Rey. Her face absolutely radiated happiness, and Ben knew he needed to pay Steve a little extra just for being blessed with a moment like this.

"You used to give me red roses," she told him through a beaming smile. "Even had some planted along the side of our country home so you could pick them and put them in a vase for me."

He tensed, he couldn't help it. Didn't fully understand why hearing about his past self put him a bit on edge. "Really?" he asked. He wanted to know more, but at the same time didn't.

Fortunately, Rey just nodded and didn't elaborate.

Ben trailed a knuckle lightly down her cheek, lingering at her dimple. "Happy birthday."

Rey blinked, eyes bouncing between him and the flowers. "These are… wait, these are for my birthday?"

"You told me today that you were born on May 6th. I realized right before I went on stage tonight that the sixth was two days ago. So, technically, happy belated birthday."

Her stare went to his chest, smile disappearing. "Oh." And then she looked at the flowers.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she quickly replied, stammering for an explanation. "I just… I – I haven't celebrated or done anything for my birthday since… well, since I lost you. I even forgot it came and went."

"I'm here now. So I say we celebrate, if that's alright with you."

She laughed uneasily. "I– I have no idea what to do to celebrate."

He kissed her cheek before he set off through the living room, saying over his shoulder, "There should be a cake somewhere around here, probably in the kitchen or fridge." Making it to the kitchen, he opened the fridge door and– "Ah, found it."

The look of it was actually quite lovely, the lavender buttercream evenly spread all over the three layers and white daisies delicately placed for decoration. On the top and in yellow, a simple Happy Birthday! was piped in cursive. It was modest and visually pleasing to the eye and stomach.

Carefully, he held the circular cardboard slab the cake was situated upon and placed it on the marble island. Hanging back in the living room, Rey's shyness about being in his space disappeared when she saw it. Sitting in a stool, she pulled the cake closer to herself, awwing at how beautiful it was.

"I'm pretty sure it's vanilla," Ben added.

Rey licked her lips. Actually fucking licked them. Ben's half-hard erection was getting all kinds of ideas, all of which would not be happening.

"Can I eat it?" she asked, eyes still on the sugary prize.

"Of course you can. It's your cake. Should I put candles on it? Shit," he bit out, suddenly realizing: "I don't have any candles."

"Totally fine," Rey assured him, patting his forearm. "Just give me a fork and I'll be happy."

Ben did just that. Rey was assessing where to start first when Ben told her he was going to take a quick shower. He had worked up a sweat underneath the stage lights and needed to get the stickiness off of him.

He could feel Rey's eyes on his figure as he disappeared down the hall, could see that there had been a question on the tip of her tongue before he left. She wanted to join him, he just knew it. She was about to ask permission, but no way could he allow that. No way he could have her slick, slender body underneath the hot water as he licked every inch of her skin and fucked her against the tile.

Taking himself in hand, he worked himself in the shower so he could get a short reprieve from the Horny Express he was so clearly on. Cuming took the edge off, but how long before he would need to do it again? He didn't masturbate often, knowing that it could make him spiral into doing it multiple times a day, holding himself up in his bedroom for hours and scouring the internet for whatever porn he could find. His addictive tendencies really did slither into all facets of his life. At least into whatever made him feel really fucking good.

Most people were good at regulating those kinds of things. Ben was not one of them.

Hair damp and with a black shirt and a new pair of sweatpants on, he sauntered back out to the kitchen, stopping dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Rey.

Fork still in hand, her cheek was smushed against the countertop and her eyes were closed. And three-quarters of the cake was gone.

Ben had been gone for ten, maybe fifteen minutes max, and in that amount of time, she had annihilated that cake and put herself into a sugar coma. He recalled her mentioning something about how food was a direct way to her heart. Clearly, she had not been kidding.

It was also obvious that there would be no staying up late tonight. Not to an ungodly hour, anyway.

Tip toeing around her, he put saran wrap over the cake and put it back in the fridge. Then, as gently as he could, he gathered Rey into his arms. She jolted awake, briefly confused as to what was happening, but then she saw Ben's face.

"Why don't I put you to bed," he whispered to her.

"Was I sleeping?"

Ben started the trek back to his room. "You were. You really went hard at that cake," he teased lightly. Ben was not the type of person to go on a let-me-tell-you-about-diabeetus virtue signaling tirade, since he believed in letting people live how they wanted to live. But damn, that was a lot of cake she just ate. If being immortal allowed a person to never gain weight and forever stay in great shape, sign him the fuck up.

Rey nestled into his shoulder and yawned. "We haven't even talked about tonight and how great you did."

"You did a wonderful job, too."

"Pfft, I'm forgettable. You, though, everyone remembered, and rightfully so. You were amazing."

Placing her on the bed, the size of the mattress and dark comforter made her look smaller than she actually was. Then again, Ben did custom order the mattress so it was even bigger than a cal king, having the frame built to accommodate the size.

Ben stared down at her, Rey stared up at him. A shyness came over him he wasn't fully accustomed to. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was bringing you to my room. I have a guest room you could–"

"I'll sleep here," she said, hands lifting the comforter and legs bending so she could slip under them. "I mean, if that's okay with you."

"Yeah… yeah, that's okay with me."

Ben didn't move.

"Is it okay if I take off my jeans?" she asked.

Ben nodded, because he couldn't get his voice to work on a reply.

Rey smiled, taking them off underneath the blanket. "So… you gonna get in?"

Swallowing around the ball in his throat, Ben raked a hand through his hair and did another round of nodding. He went about turning off the lights in the kitchen and foyer before casting his bedroom into darkness. When he got under the covers, his body was stiff and awkward and didn't know what to do.

The sheets ruffled from Rey moving, and he felt that tell-tale dip in the mattress as she got closer to him. She pressed her front up against his arm and placed her open palm on his chest, right above his heart.

Ben's bones turned to liquid, his blood roaring with a need that was very much not welcome at the moment. He was afraid that if he moved, if he reciprocated her touch, he would jump her and outright consume her. And he had a feeling she wouldn't stop him. It was like he could sense her arousal mixing with his, but he wasn't 100% sure that's what was happening. Maybe he was making it all up in his head. But there had been that connection at lunch he was so sure was real–

"Thank you for tonight," she whispered, her voice close to his ear.

"Was it enough? I feel like I should've done more."

Her little laugh casted a warmth through the room that was inviting. "Of course it was enough. It helped me forget about…" She didn't need to finish that sentence. Ben knew she was referring to Finn. "I feel happy tonight, being here with you. But you really didn't need to do anything for me."

"I wanted to." He angled his head toward her, the faint outline of her face starting to show as his eyes adjusted to the near darkness. "And to make up for lost time, how about everyday for the next week, you pick something I can do for you. Or we can do together. Whatever you want. It's officially now your birthday week."

She started tracing a little pattern atop his shirt. "A whole week dedicated to me?"

"All you."

"I'll be taking you up on that," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "But for tonight, there is one more thing I want."

"Name it."

There was a pause before she spoke, her body going still. "I want to sleep with your arms wrapped around me. I've missed that so much."

There was no hesitation on his part as he went onto his side, arm scooping under her. Rey shimmied so her back was up against his frame, his other arm finding purchase on her hips and melding her into him. Back to his chest, rear against his groin, she was a perfect fit. Resting her head on his bicep, she brought his other forearm up to drape across her chest, holding onto him as she let out the most content sigh.

"Like this?" Ben asked, his chin settled on the crown of her head. Rey was of average height and build for a woman, and yet, Ben still enveloped her.

Every spring of tension left her body. "Yes, exactly like this."

They spoke a while longer about the play: the highs and lows, the things that could be approved upon, the successes that each cast member had.

Rey was the first to fall asleep, her heavy breathing an indication that she was out. But Ben stayed awake, eyes roaming his dark room.

He'd never been much of a cuddler. Not necessarily out of a lack of trying, though. While it was true that in his younger years he never stayed long enough after sleeping with a woman to try it out, he had attempted to date a little bit while living back in LA. Those few women had been nice enough, and Ben had actually put some effort into dating them.

None of those relationships lasted longer than a month. Parting on mutual terms still made Ben feel like a failure, even though he wasn't technically dumped. Each of them had brought up a lack of a connection, and they'd been right. Why force something that wasn't there?

God, Ben couldn't even remember one of their names. Wow… maybe he really wasn't boyfriend material. He didn't actually know what it took to make a relationship last, to make the other person want to stay for the long haul.

Looking past the money and the sex and his profession, what did he really have going for him? Like, personality and deep-soul-shit wise? Philosophy was a waste of brain power, art was way too subjective to get into, religion was vague, and he honestly didn't read novels all that much – so what were his hobbies, really? Eating dum-dums? Writing and going over contracts?

He'd poured himself so much into working and growing his career, that it didn't really leave him with much down time. Down time made him idle, and an idle Ben dealt with temptation a helluva lot more than a busy Ben.

Fuck, he should just go to bed instead of ruminating how anyone could like him enough to stay with him well into old age. But this was what his brain did whenever he couldn't sleep: think about all the ways he was a sad piece of shit with anger issues and an addiction problem. How could he hold anyone's attention as a romantic partner? He had baggage. He had setbacks. Those other women had noticed it and made a bee-line for the hills.

Ben recalled something Luke had told him when he was at Yale:

When it came to being special, all it took was for one person to recognize that you were important. Even if that one person was yourself.

"I think you're special," Kylo told him. "So now that's two people."

"You're not a person," Ben thought back. "You don't count."

"Ouch. Why don't you just rip my heart out and stomp all over it while you're at it."

"You also don't have a heart."

"But I do have feelings… you cold son-of-a-bitch." There was hurt in Kylo's voice, and Ben found he didn't want to be what Kylo said he was. He didn't want to be a cold person, even if that was his fallback general setting.

Ben lightly sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, holding onto Rey just a little bit tighter. "Sorry, man."

But Kylo didn't respond. So Ben focused on going to sleep, getting his brain to shut off for the rest of the night. Everything else could be dealt with tomorrow.

A/N

One update down, more to go! I'm excited to be getting closer to certain things happening in the story, but it might be a bit until the next update. I started a part time job as a teller at a bank, so time has become a bit more limited for me. But I still write a little everyday as my new goal, whether it's 20 words or 1,000. Till next time, thanks for reading and sticking with the story!