Page 59 of Avalanche
Not to mention, it isn’t even legal for me to marry all of them.
I swallow, blinking back frustrated tears as the fantasy I’ve crafted fragments like powdered snow on the wind. I lift my gaze to meet Antoine’s.
“I want to marry you,” I admit, my voice raw. “Not just for a piece of paper. Not just so you can get your inheritance. But for real. For good. For life.” I take in a shuddering breath. “I’m in love with you. With all of you. I know it’s crazy when you think of how short a time we’ve all known each other, but you guys are it for me. That day when there was the avalanche, I had a glimpse of a world without you in it. And I knew. I knew then I couldn’t be without you.”
Antoine is staring at me with eyes so wide I can see the reflection of the florescent lights in the green of them. If I leaned forward, I could fall into them. Drown in them.
“If I could marry all of you today, I would,” I whisper.
Antoine makes a choked sound, his body shuddering beneath mine, his hand splaying across my back.
“Lily.” The way he says my name, I’m not sure if it’s a protest or a prayer.
I crash my lips against his before I can find out.
He melts against me, those splayed fingers pressing against my spine, pulling me against him as he moans into my mouth, chases my tongue with his own. His other hand leaves the tangle of our fingers only to find its place at the back of my neck, holding me to him as if he’s terrified that I’ll disappear, vanish on the mist like a dream.
“Lily,” he says again, and this time it’s definitely a prayer, the kind uttered in sweat filled moments between the sheets. “Oh, ma chère. My Lily. My sweet, sweet Lily.”
He trails his lips across mine, peppering them with sweet, closed-lip kisses, a benediction rather than a demand.
“What did we ever do to deserve you?” he asks, pulling back to give me a bewildered look. “A bunch of guys who don’t even have cars, living together in a crowded condo, who spend all their time skiing and snowboarding and drinking. Who built a wall of beer cans like it’s some sort of art installation.”
He pauses, wrinkling his nose in exaggerated disgust.
I laugh, because despite all the times he’s complained about that monstrosity, I’ve seen him add a can to it once too when he thought no one was looking.
“Seth has a car,” I dutifully point out. “And I don’t need you guys to have cars.”
Antoine shakes his head.
“We’re a mess,” he argues. “All of us. You know that.”
“So am I,” I tell him with a smile.
“And you really want to marry us?” he asks. “To marry me?”
I nod, my throat tight.
I feel like a tin shed caught in a hurricane, like everything I’m feeling could tear me apart. The longing to be with these guys, the fear of losing Seth, the clawing uncertainty of not knowing whether they all feel the same as me…
“I love you,” I whisper, and somehow I dare to look at him. Dare to say these words again. To give him this truth.
His lips part, full and kiss-swollen. Those green eyes widen.
“You don’t have to say it back,” I tell him hurriedly. “But you should know.”
I give him a smile, but it feels tight against my cheeks. The sharpness behind my ribs deepens. I turn away, suddenly unable to look at him, conscious that my cheeks must be flaming red beneath the unflattering light of this hospital waiting room. Somewhere in the distances, a machine beeps, something clatters faintly.
“Oh Lily.” Antoine takes my chin in in his hand, bringing me to face him. There’s a sheepish smile curving his lips, a flush darkening his cheeks. “Of course I love you. Mon dieu.” He gives self-deprecating chuckle. “Haven’t I told you? Didn’t I…” He shakes his head. “Mais non, I didn’t, did I? I’ve thought it a hundred times. Looked at you and marveled, wanted, needed. But never said it.”
He bends forward, pressing a tender kiss to my lips. I melt against it, feeling like snow hit by sunlight.
“I love you, Lily Dean,” he murmurs, and I feel the truth of his words warm against my lips. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”
A small cry catches in my throat, and I tilt my lips against his, seeking him out hungrily. Desperately…
My phone vibrates in my pocket just as Antoine’s phone pings, the sound ringing loudly in the silence. We both gasp, pulling back as if electrocuted, meeting each others eyes for a brief hope-filled second before pulling our phones free.
