Page 28 of Thanks for Coming Along
"Are you saying my hair is dry like a broom?" Ingrid questioned her, with her eyes squinting in disbelief.
"Now that you mention it, a yellow bristle broom would work perfectly. It's the same color as your hair.” Eden said as she grinned.
"As if!" Ingrid scoffed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
This went on while Ingrid packed up her belongings. Eden and Ingrid's conversion flew from one topic to the next without any sensible pattern. First, to Polly Pockets. Then, that time, Ingrid dropped her flute during a recital in 10th grade, finally landing on who could swim the English Channel without the proper training.
Ronan trailed after them. He filmed them in unbridled fascination, deftly panning between the two friends. Eden helped Ingrid load her bags into Eden's cherry-red 1965 Ford Mustang convertible. Ronan carefully placed a small wooden case and his backpack in the car, leaving his motorcycle in Eden’s driveway.
"I am just saying I think I could swim the English Channel if I had enough Red Bull and snacks," Eden said as she sat in the car's driver's seat and turned over the engine until it purred.
"You are delusional. There is no way! You would get a cramp and sink to the bottom of the ocean. That is one way to become the origin story of the Little Mermaid." Ingrid exclaimed as she threw her duffle bag in the back seat and sat in the passenger seat.
"You clearly don't know the plot of the Little Mermaid," Eden said, and Ingrid pointedly ignored her.
"Come on, fancy feet! Get in the car, or I'll be late for my flight." Ingrid said to Ronan as she hung her arms over the shiny red car door. Ronan swung his long leg over the car door and sat in the back seat.
Eden pulled out of the driveway and made a right turn. She smiled at the sun that shone on her arms and face. The radio played quietly over the hum of the car engine, and a stretch of asphalt trailed ahead. The azure ocean stretched endlessly to her right, the gentle waves crashing on the sandy beach. The rolling mountains towered to her left, flashes of green trees streaming in her periphery.
She turned her head to peer at Ronan as they idled at a red traffic light. A genuine smile graced her lips as he pointed his camera at her. Instead of looking directly into the lens, she focused on his deep green eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkled as a playful smile tugged at his lips. Eden couldn't help but sigh at the beautiful sight. The blaring horn of a nearby car jolted her back to reality, and she snapped her gaze forward to see that the traffic light had turned green.
"Whoops," she muttered under her breath, pressing her foot on the gas pedal. Pulling away, she couldn't resist glancing at Ronan through the rearview mirror. A slight smirk still lingered on his lips, leaving her with a warm and tingly.
Ingrid cleared her throat, her arms crossing firmly over her chest. Her perfectly arched eyebrow arched even higher, a silent question in her eyes. In response, Eden shrugged and added a playful wiggle of her eyebrows, a nonverbal communication that clearly saidDon't blame me, he is just so prettyin their silent language.Ingrid, in return, dramatically shook her head and sighed.Incorrigible,Ingrid seemed to reply.
"You two might be the most interesting people I have ever met," Ronan said, watching the exchange with interest.
"We pretty much share a brain. We should be studied for science." Ingrid replied as she waved her hand in a dolphin motion out of the window.
"There could be some groundbreaking scientific discoveries unlocked by studying our shared consciousness," Eden chimed in, nodding in agreement.
"Like, how many hot dogs are too many hot dogs," Ronan muttered from the back seat, his comment laced with humor. Ingrid erupted into uncontrollable laughter while Eden's mouth hung open in shock.Et tu, Brute?
"That was told in confidence! Isn't there like, journalist and subject confidentiality?" Eden protested.
"No, babe, it's all on the table," Ronan replied casually.Babe?A pleasant tingle washed over Eden at the use of that word.
"Like your vomit at the hotdog eating contest! BOOM!" Ingrid added, laughing at her own joke, as the tingling immediately left Eden's body. Eden sighed wearily. Join one hot dog-eating contest, and no one will let you live it down.
"I will pull this car over! I'll leave both your asses at the gas station if you keep it up," Eden threatened, though she couldn't hide her smile. She loved that Ingrid and Ronan were getting along so well, even if it was at her expense. She pulled up to the drop-off point at LAX airport, and Ronan got out of the car. He started to pull out Ingrid's bags from the back seat.
"Give us a minute, Ronan," Ingrid said, then grabbed Eden's hand and led her closer to the airport arrivals doors.
"I love you so much," Eden whispered and hugged Ingrid tightly.
"I love you more." Ingrid whispered back, "Please be careful with him." She paused for a second, considering her next words.
"I don't think I have ever seen you look at anyone like you look at him.Anyone." Ingrid said knowingly. Eden knew which someone she was referring to, Liam. And, honestly, Ingrid was right. Eden had never felt this way with Liam, not even after two years together. The giddiness she felt with Ronan after just a week completely blew anything she’d experienced with Liam out of the water. That thought made her palms slick and her hands fidgety.
"I don't want to burst your bubble, but I want you to keep in perspective that he is a journalist and here for a reason…to film a documentary." Ingrid pulled her head away from Eden's shoulder. She met Eden's eyes, her brown eyes soft and warm, like melted caramel, as she took Eden's hands into her own.
"I know," Eden replied softly, giving Ingrid's hands a reassuring squeeze. "It will be okay. I appreciate you looking out for me." Eden managed a smile, but doubts lingered like shadows in the back of her mind.
It felt like something had already been set in motion, an unstoppable force she couldn’t ignore. The warning signs were everywhere like the ocean pulling back before a tsunami. Should she try to stop it? Should she be the one to put the brakes on whatever was happening with Ronan? She shook off the thought and hugged Ingrid again.
"I just don't want you to get hurt. Please call me later," Ingrid said, gently pulling away from the hug. She walked over to Ronan, giving him a quick but friendly hug. With her bags in tow, she blew a kiss to Eden and headed inside the airport to catch her flight.
Eden glanced over at Ronan, casually leaning against her car while fiddling with his camera. A few dark brown strands fell across his forehead, and his full eyebrows were relaxed as he focused on the buttons. His straight, slightly chiseled nose and full lips gave him an effortless sensuality. As he concentrated, those lips, adorned with dark stubble along his sharp jawline, turned downward. He seemed to fill the space around him without even trying. She couldn’t help but keep looking.
