Page 67 of Thanks for Coming Along
The limousine rolled to a stop, and Ronan caught glimpses of camera flashes piercing through the tinted privacy windows. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand beneath her dress, his eyes locked onto hers. He ran his mouth over each of his slick fingers, savoring the lingering taste.
"Delicious," Ronan hummed, looking deep into Eden's eyes. Her gaze was intense, her blood-red lips slightly parted, and her eyes gleamed with a glossy sheen.
"You're an absolute menace," she whispered huskily, her voice laden with desire, her legs subtly pressing together.
"Only for you," he whispered, planting a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek. "Just know I am with you out there." His words felt like a promise, something that mattered more than the flashing cameras and all the noise around them.
Ronan eased away from her, moving to the far side of the bench so the crowd wouldn’t spot him when Eden made her exit. Eden's chest rose and fell rapidly as she reached for a bottle of popped champagne, taking a small, steadying sip. She placed the bottle back in its ice bucket, her hands still trembling slightly.
Eden composed herself, smoothing down her dress and running her fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Ronan's one last time before stepping out. Her signature smirk found its place on her lips, and with a confident pull of the limo's handle, she pushed open the door.
Her entrance unleashed a flurry of blinding lights and a chorus of voices clamoring for her attention, shouting, "Eden! Eden!" in an attempt to draw her focus. With a subtle tilt of her head, she winked at Ronan before stepping through the doorway.
He watched her through the limo's tinted windows, Eden effortlessly commanding the cameras' attention. She easily struck graceful poses, drawing hearty laughter from the photographers with whatever she had said. Her magnetic presence and charm were undeniable, turning every camera within a thirty-mile radius.
The photographers stumbled over each other to get the perfect shot. She was an absolute superstar, and witnessing this side of her was eye-opening to him. While he had seen her get noticed when they went out in public before, this was something else entirely. She was a sensation, people vying for her attention, willingly falling over themselves for just a fleeting glimpse of her.
He knew he wasn’t the only one wanting to be close to her, and while it didn’t exactly bother him, it did leave him feeling a little uneasy. She was on a pedestal far beyond his reach, a star in the night sky, and he couldn't help but feel that she deserved more than the man lurking in the shadows. His feelings for Eden were a tempest, wild and unpredictable. She was a force that could consume him entirely.
He couldn’t help but wonder if she might turn on him, like a praying mantis snapping off its mate’s head. Strangely, he thought that might hurt less than living in a world where she was there, just out of reach, forever. The thought of losing her, of not being enough for her, was in the back of his mind. She deserved everything—the world, the stars, the universe—and he was just a man, flawed in so many ways.
Eden turned one last time, her eyes looking at the blacked-out windows of the limo. He knew she couldn't see him, but he saw the same fire reflected in her eyes, the same longing and intensity that mirrored his own, and it sent a fire in his blood.
As the limousine slowly made its way around the block, delaying Ronan’s entrance to the awards show, irritation simmered in his veins. The ridiculous lengths they had to go to just to avoid being seen together felt absurd. The measures they took to keep their connection hidden from prying eyes almost made him laugh.
The city lights blurred past the windows, and each loop around the block only added to his annoyance. It wasn’t just the physical distance; it was the emotional weight of keeping what they had a secret. The sneaking around, the constant need to hide—it all felt so trivial compared to how deeply he felt for her.
Finally, the limo stopped in front of the venue. Ronan stepped out of the limo, smoothing down his tuxedo and taking a deep breath. He straightened his posture, masking the irritation beneath a practiced facade. The cameras turned to him, and he put on a polite smile, navigating through the flashing lights and shouted questions.
An immediate assault of camera flashes erupted, blinding his vision. "Ronan! Is it true you are dating Eden?" a voice called out from his left, and he inwardly cursed. Was this entire evening going to be a relentless game of dodging questions about Eden? BNN had sent him a carefully curated list of corporate-approved responses to any questions related to Eden.
"We are just friends. Let's focus on the upcoming documentary, shall we?" or "We have a respectful and supportive working relationship. We maintain clear boundaries to ensure our professional effectiveness." It was such a crock of shit, but it would keep his employer happy. The temptation to grab a microphone and declare his love for Eden to the entire world flickered briefly in his mind, but he knew that probably wouldn’t end well.
He took a deep breath, forced a smile, and turned towards the source of the question. "Eden and I have a great professional relationship," he replied smoothly, parroting the rehearsed lines. "We're both excited about the documentary and the important story it will tell."
The reporter seemed momentarily satisfied, moving on to ask about his work and the evening's events. Ronan navigated the sea of questions with practiced ease, but his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of Eden. Each query about their relationship felt like a stab, a reminder of the distance they had to maintain in public.
He tugged at the tailored tuxedo, adjusting the sleeves with a hint of irritation. He reluctantly posed for a few pictures, loathing this part of his career. These events, with their artificial glamor and blaring spotlight, bored him to his core.
Ronan made his way down the carpet, the swarm of TV reporters descending upon him like a pack of hungry wolves. It was a frenzy, each reporter struggling for the prime spot to get their questions through. The spotlights bore down on him, momentarily blinding him.
He couldn't risk a single misstep. He knew that it could jeopardize his career and his relationship with Eden. So his focus remained fixed straight ahead, he offered polite nods and smiles at all the right cues. He answered all the questions appropriately, deflecting questions about his relationship with Eden and steering the interview towards the documentary.
Beneath the polished exterior, he was lost in the maze of his own emotions. He knew catching even a glimpse of her in that mesmerizing gown might unleash emotions he couldn't hide. Just thinking about her made his hands involuntarily ball into fists, his knuckles white as they clenched at his sides to keep his emotions in check.
As if on cue, he heard her. Chills ran up his body as he heard Eden's laugh. The thought of her dominated every waking moment. It was like an invisible thread tethered his thoughts to her, and there was no escape from its relentless pull. His preoccupation with her had taken hold, growing like ivy over the walls of his sanity.
He glanced to the side and spotted her ahead on the red carpet, her head thrown back in laughter at something a reporter had said. It was clear as day what the reporter’s intentions were. His leering gaze was fixated on Eden's body, his eyes lingering shamelessly, especially on her cleavage. The bastard was practically drooling as his grubby hand tried to grip her waist. Ronan nearly growled at the sight, a dangerous feeling boiling in his veins. He felt an almost feral urge to stride over there and break all five of those fingers that had touched her. Anger consumed him, not directed toward her but rather fueled by the circumstances that caused them to be apart.
BNN's expectations be damned. He should be the one at Eden's side, the one wrapping her in his arms. He wanted the world to know that they were together, that he was hers.
"Ronan!" A voice called from his left, and he quickly redirected his gaze ahead. He silently scolded himself, wondering how long he'd been lost in thought. He hoped it wasn't glaringly obvious to anyone nearby that he had been staring at the person he was supposed to be ignoring.
"I was just asking you how interviewing Eden was," a coyling voice said, thrusting a camera directly in his face. He was half tempted to karate chop the lens, but he would never injure a poor, defenseless 12-35mm f/2.8 camera lens.
"It was great. Will you excuse me?" Ronan replied with a polite smile, his tone pleasant but somewhat distant. He gave a slight nod, signaling the end of the conversation. With that, he moved away from the camera and began striding purposefully toward the end of the red carpet.
As he navigated through the maze of reporters and photographers, Ronan finally spotted Eden making her way toward the final stretch of the carpet leading to the ceremony. As he drew closer to her, his hand brushed against her side so fleetingly that it could have easily gone unnoticed. Simultaneously, he leaned in close, his lips barely grazing her ear as he uttered, "Come here." The words were low and laced with secrecy, making Eden shudder ever so slightly in response.
