She even looks perfect when she's sleeping. And I'm completely insane. Ben tried to push the thoughts from his head, reminding himself that this was just one weekend out of his entire life. Hell, he didn't know what this was…or wasn’t.

Ben lay on his side facing Aria, propped up on one elbow. He pushed a strand of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind one ear. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically as she slept, and the expression on her face was more peaceful than he'd ever seen before.

It was strange to think he'd only known this woman for a day, or that he'd only know her until tomorrow. They would return to their regular lives as strangers...coworkers...producer and actress. As if their bodies hadn't been intimately connected. As if he hadn't seen her heart pour out in tears, her vulnerability on full display.

He was still unsure what any of that had been, or what it meant. Guilt ate at him as he wondered what he'd done, or if he'd done anything at all. If it hadn't been him, then what was it that had made her cry?

Ben's body tensed, the same fierce urge he'd felt the moment he saw her tears. He wanted to protect her. Shelter her from anything and everything that could hurt her. The last time he'd felt that way...well, honestly, he couldn't remember. There'd never been a woman he'd felt such a strong sense of protectiveness over before. Certainly never so much, so quickly.

Even more strange was that Aria was probably the one woman he'd been with who didn't need his protection. She radiated strength and resilience and was clearly very independent. Yet, he'd seen her soft side. He'd seen the cracks between her tough exterior and how underneath it all, she needed affection.

Hell, everyone needed affection. He certainly did. It was part of why he was here this weekend.

"Ben?" Her eyes fluttered open. His name on her lips...it made his body pulse with warmth and excitement. "Can you stop staring at me?"

"I'm not," he lied, smiling and rolling onto his back. "You're not always the star, you know."

She snorted a laugh and whacked him softly on the chest. "Shut up."

"You did say yesterday, you're just an actress," he reminded her. That statement still stuck in his mind, saying so much more than he understood.

He wanted to ask, but he was also afraid to know.

"Really?" Aria swung her leg across his body, climbing on top of him. "Are you normally this snarky after a nap?"

That was quick. He was already rock hard against her stomach just from the sight of her bare breasts above him. Gripping her hips with his hands, he squeezed her. "This is my light snark. I'm going easy on you."

"Oh, well, thank you, kind sir," she replied, completely full of her own snark and sarcasm.

"Did you just call me sir?"

She shrugged, a wicked smile on her lips. "Problem?"

She's doing this on purpose.

"Only if you stop." In one swift move, he lifted her hips until she was directly over his length.

Aria pushed down, taking him deep inside with a soft moan. She fell forward, her palms on his bare chest. They were seared together, and for a minute, they didn't move. They just stayed like that, locked together, staring in one another's eyes.

Ben's heart raced against his ribcage, pounding harder with every second until all he could hear was his own pulse thundering throughout his entire body. Finally, the pressure was too much, the need too great. Reaching for the nightstand, he ripped open the foil packet and rolled the condom over his cock. Gripping her hips with his hands, he lifted her just enough to pull her right back down. Again and again, he thrust inside her as she bounced on top of him.

Soft pants and gasps filled the air, but no words were exchanged. There was nothing either of them needed to say in that moment. He just wanted to take her all in—the way her breasts swelled with every press of their bodies, how her eyes rolled back with each moan from her lips, the way their bodies merged, a perfect fit.

He dug his fingers into her hips as their bodies splintered and shattered. She fell forward, blond hair sweeping across his face. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest, loving the feeling of being so close to her.

Pushing the hair from her face, he kissing her cheeks, then her nose, and finally her forehead. She murmured something nonsensical, and it was the happiest sound he'd ever heard. Like a mixture of bliss and contentment that he felt a little proud he'd helped create.

Suddenly, a loud growling sound broke the silence.

His brow furrowed. "What was that?"

"Uh...nothing." Aria quickly sat up and reached over the edge of the bed, grabbing his shirt and putting it on. The loud growling sound happened again, and her face went beat red. "Okay, maybe it's my stomach."

Ben laughed. "Hungry?"

"I mean, we did have quite a work out," she teased.

"What are you in the mood for? I could cook us something." Ben stretched slowly, yawning. He looked around the room, but he didn't have anything to wear except his jeans since he hadn't worn boxers today and she was wearing his shirt. "You wouldn't happen to have any sweatpants that are too big for you or something like that?"

He really didn't feel like wearing scratchy denim right now.

"Um, let me check." She climbed out of bed, clad only in his shirt and a pair of panties. Rummaging around in the dresser, she suddenly paused. "Oh, these are perfect." She held up a large pair of sweatpants with a drawstring waist. They were neon tie-dye. Seriously, he was almost blinded by a pair of pants surely right out of the seventies. "Here you go."

Ben raised one brow. "That's all you've got?"

"Yep. They're huge. They'll fit you."

"Gee, thanks."

She laughed and tossed the pants at him. "I wasn't calling you huge, weirdo. Plus, I bet you'll look great in tie-dye."

"No one has ever looked great in tie-dye." He slid the lightweight linen pants on, securing the drawstring around his waist to keep them from falling down. At least they're comfortable.

Aria suddenly burst out laughing, bending forward and grabbing her knees. "Oh. My. God. You look ridiculous."

He lunged for her, pulling her against him and swatting her ass. "Brat!" he teased.

She squealed and laughed harder, wrestling away from him and running from the bedroom into the kitchen. "I'm just kidding! You look like such a stud. A very hippie stud."

"And you accused me of being snarky." He pushed her back against the kitchen counter and took her face in his hands, brushing his lips across hers. "You want to keep ragging on my pants, or do you want me to feed you?"

Her eyes widened, and she glanced down at his pelvis.

He burst out laughing. "I wasn't talking about my dick, Aria."

"I wouldn't hate it if you were." She flounced away from him, a teasing smile on her face as she opened the refrigerator. "But I am actually starving."

"What do you have?" He peered over her shoulder. "Eggs, bread, and…that's all you have?"

Aria pulled out both and placed them on the counter. "You should see my takeout menu drawer." Her stomach growled again, louder this time.

"I think your stomach may destroy us both if we have to wait for delivery. Guess we're having breakfast for dinner!"

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Holy shit, it's already dinnertime?"

He could barely believe it either. "Well, we did sleep the last few hours away." Ben began heating up the stove, placing a pan on the burner, and cutting holes in the bread to make eggs-in-a-basket.

Aria stood behind him and ran her hands up and down his back. Her warmth seeped into his skin as she leaned into him and rested her cheek against his bare shoulder blades. With a feathery touch, she slid her hands around his waist and clasped her fingers over his stomach.

His pulse flamed to life.

"I like this," she said, barely above a whisper.

Ben placed the bread in the pan and cracked eggs into the center. "Like what?"

"You. Me. Free agents." Her loud exhale fanned her breath across his skin, and a fluttering sensation built in his stomach. "It's like a mini-vacation from life."

Ben chuckled. "As if either of us even have time for a vacation."

"That's what makes it even better."

The eggs began to cook, and Ben turned around to face her. He kissed her forehead as she leaned into his chest. "It doesn't feel like we only met two weeks ago."

"Maybe we didn't."

"What do you mean?" Ben ran a hand through her hair, loving the silky feel between his fingers.

She shrugged, her cheek pressed against his chest. "Maybe we already recognized each other. Something in our souls said...I know him."

Part of Ben wanted to grab his clothes and run out the door. This was intense, much more than he could handle. But he didn't move. He didn't do a thing because he wanted to know he wasn't alone in what he was feeling. They were in this together...whatever this was. "I thought you didn't believe in soul mates."

"I don't," she assured him. He wasn't sure whether he should be elated or hurt. "But, maybe I can buy into souls. Souls that feel a kinship when they meet someone with a similar spirit."

Ben didn't reply, stroking her hair once more before he turned back to the eggs to flip them. A minute later, he put them on a plate and handed her one.

She took hers into the living room, and it seemed only natural that he follow. As soon as he settled onto the couch, she curled against him, and they ate in silence. The eggs were a bit bland, but Ben quickly discovered he was ravenous, and the taste hardly registered.

"Ben, if I ask you something, will you promise not to judge me?" She put her empty plate down on the coffee table and turned to face him.

"Really hard to be the judging type in neon tie-dye, babe."

She laughed. "Fair point. Okay, well, since this is our mini-vacation, there's one thing I want to do."

"What's that?"

"The Walking Dead."

Ben blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I want to finish binge watching The Walking Dead. It's a zombie show—remember, don't judge! I'm already on the fifth season, but I have to watch it with my hands in front of my face because it's so bloody and gross and I can't handle it. But I still need to know what happens, which means I need you to tell me what's on the screen."

"Okay, I lied," Ben said, throwing his hands up.

She furrowed her brow. "About what?"

He laughed. "I'm definitely judging you."

Aria smacked his chest. "Rude.” A crafty smile gently curved her lips. “So, will you be my eyes?"

He'd already seen all of The Walking Dead episodes because it was one of his favorites, so he certainly wouldn't mind watching it again. Plus, the way she rambled with excitement and embarrassment was so cute that there was no way he was turning down her request. "I'm game, but I have one condition."

"Anything. Well, not anything. I mean, what's your condition?"

"We order delivery. Pizza, Chinese, I don't care what. I'm fucking starving."

Aria popped up and headed back in the kitchen, returning with a giant stack of menus. Her voice lowered, sultry and sweet, as she climbed onto his lap, her legs wrapping around him. "At your service, sir."

Ben's tie-dye pants immediately felt too tight, and he groaned at the exquisite feeling of her on top of him again. "Damn it, Aria. Don't call me that when I'm trying to focus on food and zombies."

She smirked. "Yes, sir."

Free agents, my ass. How was he supposed to walk away at the end of this when he wasn't even sure he wanted to?