Page 46 of Avalanche
A door creaks in the darkened hallway and the murmuring dies off, silenced until the only sound is the thundering of my heart and the crooning wail of a saxophone through a Bluetooth speaker. Matty appears from the shadows, blond hair aglow in the light of his open bedroom, expression cast in serious determination as he strides towards me.
“Matty?” My voice punches out of me in a breathless whisper as he approaches, my heart flying to my throat as all the previous trills of amusement at the guys’ antics flatten to stillness.
Matty pulls to a stop a few paces away from me, looks down nervously at the suit he’s wearing, then glances over his shoulder to the kitchen. To where Antoine, Seth and Eddie are staring at the pair of us, nearly identical looks of anticipation written across their faces. Eddie gives him a reassuring smile, an encouraging nod. Seth worries his lower lip with his teeth.
The thundering behind my ribs ratchets up, sending stars dancing in the periphery of my vision. I lean back against the closed door for support, my palms splayed behind me.
Matty turns back to look at me, hope and fear swirling like a storm-cast ocean in his blue eyes. His lips part, throat bobbing as he takes me in, looking at my wind-mussed braids and worn sweater and blue jeans with all the reverent adoration of a prince meeting his princess at a ball.
Someone turns down the music, saxophone fading to the background until I swear, I can hear the hammering of Matty’s pulse as well as my own.
He drops to one knee and I forget how to breathe.
He pulls something out of his pocket, holds it out to me, his face upturned, angled towards me like a flower following the sun. I find myself so caught up in his expression, in the open beauty of him, the raw hunger and wild hopefulness, that it takes me a moment to look at what he’s holding.
A ring, with five little diamonds sparkling like snowflakes in a slim gold band.
“Lily Dean, you’ve only known me a couple of months. I know it’s probably too soon. I know people normally know each other for years before getting married. I don’t have much to offer you either, except for myself, and sometimes that’s not much at all. But I’ve known you were it for me from day one. Since the first day of snowboard training, when you sat across from me at the table during our break. One of the guys asked me—you probably don’t remember, but he asked me what my type was, and I remember looking at you and thinking her. That girl right there, with the braids and that gorgeous smile and those eyes that see right into my soul, that’s my type.”
“I remember,” I whisper around a smile. “You said you liked blondes.”
He winces. “Shoot. I did, didn’t I?” He gives a small chuckle and pink creeps up to the tips of his ears. “I was terrified to say I liked brunettes because I was sure they would know I meant you. And then when you said you were looking for a place to live… Lily, I thought I was going to die right then and there. Not because I was planning on making any moves or anything?—”
I have to bite back the grin that threatens at those words, at the frantic way Matty tries to explain himself, because I know they’re true. I felt the way he trembled the first time I kissed him, saw the look of wide-eyed awe spread across his face when I first touched him. I can’t even imagine him daring to make a move on me. Not then.
Now, though…
“It was just that I’d get to see you each day. That I’d get to know you. Sure, a little part of me thought maybe. Maybe she’ll like me. But I couldn’t even imagine it. Not then. You were like…” he makes a gesture with his free hand, holding it up above his head like some high-water mark. “And me. Well, I’m just me.” He huffs, the corners of his lips curving with a sort of self-deprecating amusement.
“And then you kissed me.”
His smile falters, amusement giving way to a calm sort of reverence. “And I knew. I knew that I’d do anything to keep you. To make you mine. I looked at you and I saw forever. I looked at you and everything I’d ever done, all the things I’ve seen, every moment—it all made sense. Because it brought me to you.”
He pauses, his gaze dropping briefly to the ring in his hands before looking back up at me with a shuddering breath. With a look that is completely open and vulnerable, like a door flung wide open to his soul.
“Lily Dean, will you marry me?”
I stare down at him and feel time stop around us.
I think about those words I whispered against his lips only yesterday, with the taste of Antoine shared between us, when Liam and Matty had both been buried deep inside of me. I think about that 4am conversation with Seth, and how he described loving as spinning out of control. I think about every moment I’ve spent with Matty since we met, of each adoring look and little gesture, of each shy smile and spreading blush.
I stare at the ring in his hand and the spinning stills.
It’s still there, the fear, the desperate need to cling on to this thing the six of us have created, but it’s on the outside now. Like Matty and I are in the eye of a hurricane. I look at that ring and see it for exactly what it is: a promise. A commitment. A rock in the wild uncertainty swirling around us.
Just a piece of paper, Seth had said. And that’s true.
But not for Matty.
Matty isn’t offering me a piece of paper. He’s offering me his heart.
“Yes.” The word comes out breathless, catching against the raw ache in my throat. “Yes.”
Matty’s smile lights up the whole room.
He slips the ring from its box, holding the golden band between two large fingers.
“Can I?”
