Chapter 20Ronan
20
Ronan
R onan spent a solid twenty minutes digging through the back of his closet before finally pulling out his old, beat-up Vans. It had been years since he’d worn them. Now, the worn soles gripped the gritty surface of the longboard as he cruised along the boardwalk. He cursed himself for casually mentioning to Eden that he used to longboard as a teenager. The second he said it, she latched onto the idea, insisting he take her to Venice Beach so she could live out her skater-girl fantasy.
After she fell off the longboard around seven times, they stopped at a shop on the boardwalk, and she picked out a pair of quad roller skates. In her purple retro-inspired roller skates and jean shorts, she looked straight out of the 1970s. At Ronan's insistence, she also put on knee pads and elbow pads because she was literally a flying projectile in those rolling death traps.
She insisted Ronan pull her along while she skated, holding onto his shoulder as he pushed on his longboard. The plan fell apart almost immediately when she lost her grip, swerving off the sidewalk and face-planting into the soft sand. Arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, she lay there for a second before flipping over, shaking sand from her hair with a grin.
“Again!” she called up at him, her laughter shining in her eyes. Ronan could only laugh, shaking his head as he reached to pull her up.
Ronan positioned himself at the front of the board, ready to lead the way. Eden stood beside him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance, her smile wide and full of anticipation. The early evening sun caught in her eyes, making them sparkle, and Ronan found himself momentarily distracted by her.
“I always wanted to date a skater boy,” Eden admitted with a teasing grin, her hands still on his shoulders.
“Oh yeah?” Ronan replied, raising an eyebrow, his tone matching hers.
“Yeah,” she said, the salty breeze catching her hair as she nodded, her expression mischievous. “Never had the chance.”
“Never say never,” Ronan said with a smirk, as he pushed off with one foot, the longboard gliding easily along the pavement.
“We could swing by the skate park,” Ronan said, tossing a sly look over his shoulder. “Bet there are plenty of skater boys who’d jump at the chance to take you out.”
Eden rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin.
With each push of his foot, they picked up speed, and she leaned in just enough to keep her balance, fully trusting him to guide her. The wind whipped her hair around, sending strands flying in the salty ocean breeze. Ronan weaved them smoothly through clusters of people.
"Stop! Ronan, stop!" Eden called out, her voice filled with excitement. Ronan slowed down, using his foot to reduce their speed gradually.
"What's wrong?" he asked as she pointed towards a storefront covered in colorful artwork, a neon sign flickering the words "Tattoo Shop." Ronan's eyes flicked back to Eden, who was wiggling her eyebrows.
"What do you think, skater boy?" Eden teased. "Are you up for it, or will you say 'See you later, boy'?" Maybe she was joking with the Avril Lavigne reference, but the challenge hung in the air, igniting a surge of excitement within him.
Something about Eden’s energy brought out a side of him he hadn’t tapped into in years. His heart thudded, caught between anxiety and excitement. Was he seriously about to do this?
Spontaneity wasn’t exactly his strong suit—he usually needed a solid 7 to 10 business days to overthink a decision. But here he was, considering throwing caution to the wind for her. He’d always wanted to get a tattoo but never quite worked up the nerve.
"Why not?" Ronan's response carried a casual shrug, though inwardly, his mind was screaming, " Are you crazy?"
"Yes, Ronan! You absolute badass!" Eden's exhilaration bubbled, and when she grabbed his hand, he felt a rush of warmth spread through his stomach. Maybe enduring the pain of a tattoo would be worth it if it meant she would hold his hand. Was that pathetic? Undoubtedly yes. Was it true? Painfully also yes.
She skated her way towards the entrance, her hand in his hand, and she pushed open the door. As they entered the tattoo parlor, the scent of ink and antiseptic greeted them. Eden's roller skates thumped rhythmically over the studio's flooring, drawing the attention of a man who sat behind a counter, his body covered with an impressive array of ink and piercings. His eyes shifted from Ronan to Eden, widening in recognition as he realized who she was.
"Aren't you Eden Percy?" he asked, a touch of awe in his voice.
"The one and only! How are you on this beautiful Wednesday?" Eden replied as she leaned her elbows on the counter.
"Uhh, good. I guess?" he stammered. "I'm a huge fan, by the way."
"Thank you! I'm a huge fan of your artwork in the window. You do amazing work," Eden complimented, her smile was wide.
"Holy crap, thank you. Is this really happening?" His excitement was palpable.
"It depends. Do you have time for two walk-ins?"
"Yes! Please follow me. My name is Gordon, by the way." He led them toward the tattooing area, then glanced at Ronan. "Wait, aren't you on the news or some shit? You look familiar, but you're also holding a longboard and wearing beat-up Vans, so my brain is confused."
"Yes, my name is Ronan. I used to board like ten years ago, and this nut wanted to see it in action," Ronan replied, jabbing a thumb in Eden's direction.
Gordon nodded and muttered under his breath, "Damn, Los Angeles is crazy." He led them to the tattooing area, still shaking his head in disbelief. Gordon's eyes fell on Eden's skates as they approached his workstation, and he whispered, "No one is going to believe me."
Eden gracefully settled into the plush, black leather reclining chair, one toned leg elegantly draped over the other, her roller skates still on her feet. She gazed up at Ronan from beneath her long lashes, sporting a sultry smirk that could rival the devil himself.
"Do you have any tattoos, Devil?" Ronan asked her as he settled into a chair next to her
"Yes, I do, just one."
"Where is it?" Ronan's curiosity was piqued; he hadn't seen any visible tattoos, and he had basically seen her in her underwear that first day at her house. A mischievous grin played on her lips, uh oh.
"I'd have to be topless for you to see. That can be arranged… if you're interested." she teased, her voice laced with seduction as her fingers nonchalantly tousled her hair. Eden was utterly lethal , a temptress sent to wreak havoc on his self-restraint. Gordon audibly gulped at her comment like a cartoon character. Same, Gordon, same.
Things had been spiraling since the night of the festival. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—especially after her performance. That dance with the mic stand was burned into his memory, looping endlessly in his mind. In the shower, he’d caught himself imagining her hands, the sway of her hips, the effortless sensuality she carried. He knew it was unethical. He’d tried to push her out of his head, but she always found a way back, her face front and center.
It wasn’t just the physical pull, either. He cared about her, wanted to protect her, and found himself wanting could spend every second of his day with her. That night at the Santa Monica Pier had only made it worse. Being with her, seeing her laugh, and catching those fleeting moments of vulnerability—it had all deepened the ache inside him. He wanted to kiss her so badly, and not just on the Sea Dragon or during the ring toss. The longing was constant, gnawing at him, refusing to let go.
There was one hunk-sized issue: Quentin Ramos. Technically, he was dating Eden—or at least Ronan thought he was. It wasn’t entirely clear. Eden never brought him up, and Ronan hadn’t seen him in person. The only real proof of Quentin’s existence was that one phone call she had with him in the trailer before the festival. Beyond that? Nothing. Then again, Quentin Ramos was a world-famous actor, so he was probably off filming or bench-pressing cars as part of his workout routine. Official or not, it didn’t stop Eden from flirting. Relentlessly.
It was confusing. Maybe it was just her personality, that effortless charm she seemed to radiate, but she didn’t hold back around him. And yet, Ronan couldn’t remember seeing her act that way with anyone else—not her bandmates, not strangers, not even the occasional cashier. It made him wonder if she enjoyed messing with him, knowing he was tied up in knots over her. He really hoped that wasn’t the case.
"What are you thinking, Miss Eden?" Gordon asked as he prepared his tools. Eden had decided on a small tattoo on her right ring finger: the number 721.
Gordon slipped on his gloves and set up the tattoo gun, the soft buzz filling the room. Eden rested her right hand on the padded armrest and extended her ring finger. The machine whirred to life, and as the needle touched her skin, she flinched just a little.
“Breathe,” Gordon said casually, focused on his work.
He wiped away the excess ink, revealing the freshly tattooed "721" that now on Eden's right ring finger.
"What does it mean?" Gordon asked as he dipped the needle in the small pot of black ink.
Gordon pulled on his gloves and set up the tattoo gun, the soft hum filling the air. Eden rested her hand on the padded armrest, extending her ring finger. The needle met her skin, and she winced slightly.
“Breathe,” Gordon said, not even glancing up as he focused on his work.
With each pass of the needle, he wiped away the extra ink, revealing the clean outline of "721" on her finger.
“It’s a date that changed my life,” Eden said softly, admiring the fresh tattoo. “July 21st. Something clicked in my brain that day, and I finally realized I was worth something. More than something—I’m worth everything.”
Ronan nodded silently, knowing the significance. It was the day she had sought help after waking up in a stranger’s house, the turning point in her mental health journey.
Eden smiled down at her new ink, a small but powerful smile. “I love it, Gordon. Thank you.”
Gordon returned her smile with a nod. “Glad you do. Now, it’s Tony Hawk’s turn,” he added with a wink, shifting his gaze to Ronan and his longboard abandoned next to his feet.
Ronan laughed, a little nervous, and explained what he had in mind: a small sparrow. Eden, meanwhile, skated aimlessly around the shop, her roller skates clacking against the floor as Gordon sketched out designs. They finally agreed on a simple design—a sparrow, no bigger than a silver dollar, diving gracefully with its wings spread wide.
Ronan sank into the chair and let out a deep breath. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said, trying to shake off his nerves.
“Where do you want it, Tony?” Gordon asked, holding up the stencil for Ronan to see.
Ronan thought about it for a second. “Back of my left arm.”
“You’re probably gonna need to take off your shirt,” Eden chimed in, her tone casual. “The shirt’ll just get in the way. Might as well make it easier for Gordon.” She shrugged, a small, mischievous grin tugging at her lips. Minx .
“Anything for Gordon,” Ronan replied with a smirk as he yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it at Eden. The shirt landed right on her head, blocking her face for a second.
“I don't want to be a pawn in your twisted horny game," Gordon muttered under his breath.