Page 39 of Thanks for Coming Along
“Ready to hit the road?” Ronan asked, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder. Eden trailed behind, dragging her bright pink suitcase. His eyebrows lifted slightly at the sight of it, but instead of commenting, he grabbed a hot pink helmet from the couch and held it up with an expectant grin.
“I was thinking I could drive the motorcycle. Ever been on one? It’s fun.” He flashed a hopeful smile, all white teeth and boyish charm.
Did anyone have the right to be that cute? The answer was no. It was unlawful. Jail. Someone should arrest him for excessive adorability.
"Of course, I have been on a motorcycle. What kind of rebellious teen would I have been if I didn't?" Eden retorted with a smirk while Ronan chuckled.
"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," he replied with a grin, his eyes sweeping over her hot pink suitcase. "But if we're going with the motorcycle, you might want to downsize your packing a bit," he suggested.
Eden nodded, promptly unzipping her suitcase and rummaging through it. She plucked out a few essentials and tossed them into her purse.
"Good idea. Besides, I think I have some spare clothes at Quentin's place anyway," she added with a shrug.
"Quentin?" Ronan repeated slowly, his words measured, each syllable carefully enunciated.
"Yeah, you know, that actor who flies around in spandex for millions of people every few years?" Eden replied casually. She hastily tried to stuff some stray underwear back into the suitcase as she continued, "He lets me use his place whenever I visit Tahoe."
Ronan's lips pressed together tightly, and his posture noticeably tensed as he absorbed this new piece of information.
"Not a fan of superhero movies? Me neither," Eden commented as she zipped up the half-empty suitcase. "I find them to be unrealistic. I mean, who's both hot and has crazy superpowers? It seems so unfair for the rest of us normies."
Ronan mumbled a response, his gaze fixed on the floor beside her suitcase. "Like you're one to talk."
"What does that mean?" Eden furrowed her brows in confusion.
"Come on, Eden," Ronan began, his voice deathly serious, devoid of any humor. "You're stunningly gorgeous, funny, and insanely talented. How is that fair to everyone else in the universe?" He glanced at her, his expression still serious.
"Sorry, I bet Quentin probably doesn't like me talking like that." His face seemed to flash with some elusive emotion, and his eyes narrowed slightly. Eden was genuinely shocked for a moment, but then a wave of laughter erupted from her. It caused her to lose balance from her squatting position and tumble to the floor. She looked up at him from her seat on the floor. Ronan's eyebrows furrowed, and a frown graced his features.
"Wait, are you serious? Quentin?" Eden's voice wavered with surprise.
"I saw that TMZ article with you two on a breakfast date from two weeks ago." The revelation hit her like a freight train.
Oh.oh. She had totally forgotten about that harebrained scheme. It was just another consequence of her ill-judged decisions. Sloane would be waving her "I told you so" flag, and she could almost hear her lecture about the repercussions of her actions. She quickly stood up from the floor, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how to explain herself to Ronan.
"That was to distract everyone from "Push-gate. Quentin is my friend; he has only ever been my friend." Tension seemed to unravel from his muscles from her confession. His shoulders dropped slightly, and his jaw relaxed imperceptibly. The look of displeasure that had clouded his face vanished, replaced by a microscopic smile as his lips curled subtly. The change in him was slight, but to her, it was unmistakable.
He had beenjealous. Eden's eyes widened at this realization, and then a small smile of her own crept onto her lips.
“Haven’t I taught you anything? You can’t believe everything you read,” Eden said softly, her fingers lightly brushing his shoulder. She couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles tensed under her touch or the subtle clench of his jaw.
She snagged the helmet from his hand and sauntered away, making sure to sway her hips. A smile danced on her lips as she could sense Ronan's footsteps trailing behind her.
He was jealous. Ronan Murphy, a distinguished journalist, was a green-eyed monster. Her stomach was somersaulting, and glee bounced in her chest like a ping-pong ball. Jealous. She could work with jealousy.Now, this could be fun.
As she heard his footsteps approach, she felt him gently yet firmly hold her wrist. Slowly, she turned around to face him.
He traced his hand languidly from her wrist, moving slowly up her arm and finally settling on her shoulder. Each stroke of his fingers left a trail of static electricity tingling along her skin. Goosebumps erupted beneath his touch, her body feeling like it had been set ablaze, a fire spreading fervently through every nerve ending.
"Are you pleased with yourself, gorgeous girl?" His low and husky voice carried a hint of desire as he gazed into her eyes. His intense gaze seemed to ignite the air around them, charging it with an almost palpable anticipation. His eyes moved slowly tracing a path down her face until they locked onto her lips.
A wave of excitement surged through her, her stomach twisting with a mix of nerves and eagerness. It was unmistakable; he was going to kiss her, and she was more than ready to let him. Her hormones trumped any reasoning at this point, the sensible part of her brain clouded with lust. Levelheaded could not come to the phone right now; she was currently engaged in Olympic-level eye fucking.
A hazy corner of her mind whispered that kissing might be a bad idea, but she instantly smothered out that buzz-killing voice. Eden felt the warmth radiating from his body, his very presence invading her senses. He smelled like a heady blend of leather from his jacket and spice. It wrapped around her like an intoxicating embrace.
As their eyes locked, time seemed to suspend, hanging by a delicate thread. Eden stood in an almost unnatural stillness, caught in the anticipation of what might happen next. His fingertips reached her neck, his thumb gently tracing the rapid rhythm of her pulse before gently tilting her head upward. Her center cinched at the intimate touch as his grip tightened ever so slightly. There was a subtle nod from him, so slight it was almost imperceptible.
Slowly and deliberately, he lowered his hand from her neck, breaking the spell. Eden fought back a groan at the sudden loss of his warmth, her heart still pounding wildly in her chest.
