Page 9 of Thanks for Coming Along
INGRID: Okay love bug xx
Eden's mind wandered back to the intense relationship between Ingrid and Beck during their Juilliard days. Their connection had been magnetic, drawing them together with an irresistible force. They were passionate, their love as fierce as their arguments. Ingrid had met Beck at a Battle of the Bands show during their junior year at Juilliard. They had an instant connection, and the rest was history. Eden had never seen Ingrid so deeply in love or enamored with any other relationship since.
They went through a whirlwind romance that lasted for a few months. Eventually, they fizzled out after a massive fight that marked the end of their relationship, leading Ingrid to ghost everyone except Eden.
Beck had joined her band two years ago, along with Finn and Reef, after her original band fell apart. Eden had made sure to ask Ingrid’s blessing before approaching Beck about joining. She knew the unresolved history between Ingrid and Beck was a delicate subject and didn’t want her decision to jeopardize their friendship.
Ingrid, despite her mixed feelings, gave her blessing. She couldn’t deny Beck’s extraordinary drumming talent or ignore the tough spot Eden was in after her previous band’s sudden breakup.
Despite Ingrid's understanding, Eden recognized that it wasn't easy for Ingrid to face Beck again, especially since Ingrid had purposely avoided any encounters with him since their breakup four years ago. They hadn't seen each other since. Whenever Ingrid attended Eden's shows over the last two years, she didn't step foot in the green room before or after the shows, determined not to run into Beck. Eden knew Ingrid still harbored feelings for him, that she was stuck in the past like no time had passed. Without closure, Eden knew moving past those feelings was impossible for Ingrid.
Someone rolled out a clothes rack with various outfits to choose from. Eden's eyes flitted across the length of the rack; there were seemingly endless options, from frilly dresses to business casual chic. The production team settled on a white silk collar shirt with tight, cropped black dress pants. The more makeup and hairspray they applied, the less she felt like herself. She looked at her face in the mirror. She looked poreless, her eyes lined with fake eyelashes, and her hair meticulously curled.
The production team had set up an interview chair by the large window in her living room. As she sat in the chair and felt the harsh white ring light blare onto her face, she started to feel disconnected from reality. She watched as a camera tech fiddled with a complicated-looking camera, and then she spotted a lanky intern handing out coffees to various staff members. She was then watching herself outside her body; she felt someone blotting her forehead with powder, and then another hand adjusted any loose curls to the perfect position over her shoulder. There, directly in front of her, were those unmistakable green eyes, their intensity pulling her back into the moment.
"Hey, are you okay?" Ronan inquired, concern etched across his features. He leaned forward, his brows furrowing in worry. She attempted to swallow to wet her dry throat as she stood up woodenly and walked over to the French doors overlooking the ocean. Ronan followed her, and he stood so close that she felt the warmth radiating off him. In that moment, she longed to bask in that warmth, to shield herself from the outside world, even if just for a brief second.
"This isn't working for me. We're trying to create something authentic, and all this fanfare... it feels hypocritical," she whispered, her right hand gently rubbing her chest. He nodded briefly and said, "Hey, everyone, please clear out! Take the day off." Without hesitation, they began packing their equipment, their footsteps fading as they shuffled outside. She felt a weight immediately lift off her shoulder and breathed deeply, relief washing over her.
"I am really sorry. I just think a formal interview style isn't what I imagined for this project. It will be too stiff, and I honestly don't think I could open up with so many people in the room." Eden said as she looked out the window, watching the ocean waves crash to the shore. She looked at Ronan's reflection on the glass of the sliding door, his eyebrows still furrowed with concern as his eyes studied the profile of her face.
"I get it. Do you want me to leave too?" Ronan asked quietly. Eden considered it for a moment, her mind weighing the options. No, she didn't want him to leave. She felt oddly comfortable with him. Eden noticed the subtle tightness in his jaw and the tension in his shoulders—signs that he was struggling with something inside. She could tell because she’d been there herself.Like seeks like.Maybe they could help each other navigate their inner demons. She had learned that those demons might never fully go away, but keeping them at arm's length, not letting them scream in your face, was a win in itself.
"No, I don't," Eden replied, her gaze shifting from the window to his face as she carefully studied him. "You probably know I've never done an interview before," she continued, to which Ronan nodded. "Let's just say I'm an extremely private person even though my face is splashed across the tabloids. Opening up doesn't come naturally to me."
"We can take it slow." His voice took on a soothing quality as if he were trying to calm a skittish horse.
"Okay, Murphy. Get your camera," she said with a wry smile as she assessed him. Ronan raised an eyebrow in response.
6
Ronan
Something felt off. Ronan felt an inexplicable sense of uneasiness, like the feeling of stepping into a puddle of water with socks on or thewrongsensation of pouring milk before cereal. Ronan felt completely discombobulated. Sadie had mentioned that Mercury was in retrograde a few days ago. Could a planet affect someone's feelings? He didn't know, but he would take any excuse.
Throughout his career, he had conducted countless interviews, been in life-threatening situations, and interviewed dangerous people who could have your stomach turn with a simple look. But Eden Percy had been the one to throw him completely off his game.
Meeting her last night was a shock, but not in the way he had anticipated. Her beauty, while striking, was only the tip of the iceberg. It was her sharp wit, her sense of humor, and her effortless charm that had left him feeling totally disoriented. And her sass was the cherry on top, creating a combination that was hard to ignore. The image of Eden in that thin tank top and underwear involuntarily flashed in his mind, a dangerous train of thought he knew he needed to steer clear of. No, he didn't watch that sweet ass as she walked back to get dressed because that would behighlyinappropriate. So why was it burned on the back of his eyelids when he blinked?
Once the crew had departed, and with a nod of approval from his boss, it was just Eden and him for the remaining eight weeks. No buffer existed between them except for his camera.
This project might be the one that killed him, did him in, caused an early retirement. He should just kiss his retirement savings plan goodbye now.
Ronan watched as Eden peeled the shell of a pistachio nut, then aggressively scribbled something in a notebook as he started setting up his camera. Once he had the settings correct, he moved to sit across from her at the kitchen table. Eden continued writing for a few seconds, then looked up. She offered a sheepish smile, her fingers still dipped in a bowl of pistachios.
"Sorry, inspiration strikes at the worst times," she admitted, extending the bowl of pistachios towards Ronan. "Nut?"
“No thanks,” Ronan politely declined. She was driving him nuts as it was, and no extra nuts were required.
"Suit yourself," Eden shrugged, casually popping another pistachio into her mouth. She seemed entirely at ease, not at all concerned with the state of her retirement savings plans.
"Maybe we could pause the nut-eating and start the interview?" He asked as his lips curled into a small smile.
"Wow, someone hates legumesandjelly beans, I knew there was something dark about you." Eden's eyes sparkled with playful mischief.
"Pretty sure pistachios aren't legumes," Ronan corrected, a smile dancing in his eyes.
"I didn't realize I was being interviewed by an expert on legumes," Eden grinned back at him as she casually pushed the bowl away.
