Fame: Makes a Man Think Things Over

Private Caller

My phone rang. Private caller. Normally those are sales calls, but I picked up anyway. I was in the mood to yell at someone, someone on Ben's team preferably, but it may as well be a telemarketer. I wasn't picky.

"Kira of Jakku here, may I help you?" I stated the name of Kylo Ren's lover in The Star One as crisply as I could.

There was a startled silence. I smiled in malicious pleasure. Maybe the telemarketer was a fan. Ha.

"Pardon?" A deep voice on the other end asked.

Now it was my turn to be startled. "Hello?"

"Kira of Jakku? Really?"

"Uh," I said. "Who is this?"

"Well..." he paused. "Is this ... Rey Jackson?"

"Ben? Yes, this is me. I mean, Rey." I heard a rush of air on the other end. "I thought you were a telemarketer."

"Oh, okay. You said you were Kira of Jakku?"

"Yes, I was annoyed."

"Got it," he said. "Listen, can I come down and visit you? I want to talk about something."

"Sure," I said.

About five minutes later, Ben Solo knocked on my door. He stood there with his fluffy dark hair, soft mustache, and sad whiskey-brown eyes.

I opened the door and allowed him to step in.

Ben sighed deeply and took my hands in his. He stepped closer, bent his head, and found my lips. He kissed me with the hungry fervor I had seen in his films.

I returned his kisses, unable to help myself. His mouth was delicious. I would never get enough of the feel of his full lips pressed on mine, his warm tongue teasing my mouth open and exploring. Never have enough of touching his silky soft hair and feeling him pull me closer, bending down to reach me.

"Ben," I said, while he pressed kisses on my face. "What are we doing?"

He gazed into my eyes. "I want to kiss you so badly. I want to be here with you, Rey. I really like you. Maybe it's against the better judgment of ... everyone around me. But I don't fucking care."

I huffed a short laugh. "You are here against your better judgment and that of the others around you?"

He looked a bit strained. "I guess so. Come on, Rey, I told them you aren't a fan. I know you aren't."

I put my hands on my hips. "No, Ben, I'm not a fan, I suppose. Not like some..." I waved my hand to indicate those who were hardcore into the movies, like Gwennie. "But I don't think there's anything wrong with that or the people who love the stories."

Ben held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I don't either. I just don't want to be doxed or stalked."

"Hi, I don't plan on doing anything like that to you. You came and found me, each and every time. Don't give me bullshit about me being the bad guy here. I am not a fucking stalker, fan, doxer, or paparazzi." I was almost yelling by the end of my little speech. "Why don't you do what you want to do and trust your instincts for a change?"

Ben dropped his head and gazed at his feet. He didn't say one word.

I softened up a bit. "I know you've never done this fame thing before. You're relying on other people to help you stay safe and keep your privacy intact. I get that. But if you want to hang out with some of us regular folk, then do it. Didn't my grandfather show you that it could be all right? I'm not out to get you."