Page 30 of Avalanche (Endless Winter #3)

“Come back soon?” I pull Antoine’s hand against my chest, curl my toes inside my winter boots.

I know it isn’t fair to ask that of them. Not of Eddie, at least. But loneliness is spreading out around me, filling the space where my guys usually are, like cold wind gusting in through an open door.

Matty doesn’t answer. Instead, he bends to press a kiss to the top of my head, his lips warm, his breath sweet. “Text me if you get any news, okay?”

I nod wordlessly, my throat too tight to reply.

And then they’re gone. And it’s just me and Antoine in the empty waiting room, with the sound of florescent lights buzzing above us and the glare of the polished floors and the thundering of my own heartbeat.

“Come here.” Antoine gives my hand a tug, then sits back in his seat and pats one spread knee.

I hesitate, looking self-consciously down the narrow corridor, to where the sound of nurses and doctors bustling mingle just out of sight.

“No one will care.” Another pull, this one more insistent. “Come on.”

I climb from my seat, lifting myself over the metal armrest between us as I clamber onto his lap. “Are you sure?” I ask, even as he wraps his arms around me, pulls me against him.

“Hmm,” he sighs, closing his eyes as he presses his face against my shoulder. “Sure.”

I relax against him, turn my face until my nose is pressed against his tight curls and breath him in. He smells like clean clothes and the lingering hint of expensive cologne and him .

“This is so… fucked,” he whispers, and I find myself jolting in surprise at his words. At the unusual sound of him swearing in English instead of French. “I just… how could this even happen?”

A strange sound catches in my throat, an almost-whimper.

“I mean, whoever hit him would have had to have driven completely off the road,” Antoine continues. “You could see the tire tracks and everything. There was an entire snowdrift.” He pauses, shaking his head where it’s pressed against my shoulder. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

Cold snakes over me at his words, making my skin prickle, the fine hairs on the backs of my arms rising inside my sweater.

“What are you saying?” I ask, pulling back to stare down at him alarm. “Are you saying…”

“That it was intentional?” His words are whisper soft, but they shake the stillness of the waiting room.

His green eyes flick between mine, searching.

“Maybe?” His brow creases, full lips pulling into a frown at his own response.

“I mean, if it was an accident, why did they drive away? Why didn’t they stay to help? ”

“Because they didn’t want to get in trouble? Because they were drunk?”

“Maybe,” Antoine agrees, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “The police took photos, right?”

I nod, and that icy sense of dread sinks deeper, scraping against my bones like a knife.

“Matty said the police showed up when the ambulance did. They took photos of all the tire tracks in the snow and said something about pulling footage from the traffic cameras before they left. They got Matty’s phone number.”

“Good.” Antoine gives a satisfied nod.

“You really think someone did this on purpose?” I ask. I feel sick at the thought, at the idea that anyone could look at Seth—wonderful, sweet, caring Seth—and do something like that.

“I don’t know. I hope not.” He tightens his arms around me, pulling me back against him. His warmth seeps into me, but it isn’t enough to dispel the lingering coldness left from his words. “I really hope not.”

We’re both silent for a long time after that, the pair of us wrapped up together, occasionally turning to look hopefully towards the corridor where Seth’s room is.

At one stage, the tired nurse from earlier comes out, his bloodshot eyes glancing over us with a look that says he’s probably seen worse than a girl sitting on a guy’s lap in a waiting room, and informs us its the end of his shift.

“They know you’re waiting,” he tells us as he buttons up his winter coat over his scrubs. “I’ve told them to tell you once they have any news.”

“So he’s still asleep?” Antoine asks, straightening in his seat beneath me. “He still hasn’t woken up?”

The nurse gives him a pitying look. “He’s in surgery. He won’t be waking up for hours. You should get some food. They’ll update you as soon as they can.”

“What about Liam?” Antoine presses.

“The brother?” The nurse lifts his hands, making finger quotes in the air around the word ‘brother’.

“He said - and I quote - ‘you’ll have to sedate me if you want me to leave his side.’ Though of course in a New Zealand accent, which is interesting considering Seth’s ID says he’s Canadian.

” The nurse’s lips curve into a bemused look that hints at a knowing smile.

“So I suspect he’ll be in there for a while. ”

“Have you heard from Liam?” I ask Antoine once the nurse has left. “Has he text you or anything.”

Antoine shakes his head. “I think his phone is off.”

I unlock my own phone to flick through the messages, but there’s nothing. Nothing from Liam. Nothing from the other guys either.

“Lily, I was thinking…” Antoine pulls back, angling his head so he can look at me. “Maybe this getting married thing is a stupid idea.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he makes a tsking sound, then lifts one finger to my lips to silence me.

“No. Listen. In order for the marriage certificate to get translated and apostilled and sent to France in time, we have to get married tomorrow. Before noon at the very latest.”

His hand falls away, dropping to settle in my lap but his eyes remain fixed on my face, sharp and serious and full of feeling.

“We don’t know how Seth will be doing by then.

He could still be unconscious. He could be…

well, he might not be out of danger. How can I ask you to leave him and go get married when he’s like that?

Just so I can claim my inheritance? And what if it doesn’t even work?

It could be all for nothing, you know. My father might contest it… ”

“Antoine.” I gather up the hand he’s placed in my lap and hold it to my chest. I wonder if he can feel the fluttering behind my ribs, the frantic thundering of my heart. “You’re going to marry me.”

My gaze drops to my knees, my cheeks blazing with embarrassment as I gather up my thoughts, think of how to explain this to him. It’s been simmering away in the background for days now, ever since that middle of the night talk with Seth, maybe even before that.

I want to be with these guys. All of them. Forever.

Which means what Antoine and I are doing, it isn’t just for a piece of paper. It isn’t just so he can claim his inheritance. Sure, the timing isn’t great. In a perfect world, it would be different.

In a perfect world, I’d wait until Seth was out of hospital, and I’d marry all five of them at once.

My family and friends would come and smile and clap as we read our vows and exchanged rings and cut the cake.

The six of us would take turns dancing beneath strings of twinkling lights.

I’d have flowers in my hair and a white dress twirling around my ankles.

The guys would whisper that they loved me, as if it was a secret even though everyone watching could tell just by the way they looked at me.

But this isn’t a perfect world. Seth is in hospital. Antoine has an ultimatum hanging over his head. And I don’t even know if the guys all want what I want.

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.

It’s from Liam. On the group chat.

Liam: He’s out of surgery. Stable. Had to have my phone off in theater.

I stare at his message, thumb hovering over the keyboard, hands shaking.

“ Dieu merci ,” Antoine breathes.

The screen blurs, swimming before my eyes like it’s been dropped under water.

Eddie: Lily and Antoine are in the waiting room. Me and Matty out getting food. Want something?

Liam: Yeah thanks mate. Fucking starving.

Antoine: Do you want a break? I can come sit with him.

Liam: Nah. I’m good.

Liam: Don’t really want to leave him right now.

Liam: I mean, he’s fine. The doctors said he’ll be fine. Just think I should stay with him.

Liam: Someone should call his parents. @Lily, you have their number, right?

I nod stupidly at my phone in confirmation, before remembering that Liam isn’t here with me in the room. My thumbs skids across the screen as I tap out my response.

Me: I’ve got it. I’ll call them.

Liam: That’s my girl.

Then, another message from Liam pops up, this one on a thread between me, him and Antoine.

Liam: You hanging in there, love? You’ve got Antoine with you, right?

Antoine: I’ve got her.

Me: I’m good.

Except there’s dampness on my cheeks and it feels like my chest is made of paper being ripped open.

“You don’t have to lie,” Antoine murmurs in my ear. “It’s okay not to be okay. You know that right?”

I nod, a wobbly sort of movement that I’m sure isn’t very convincing. But how can I say what I’m really feeling over text message? How does someone fit those words onto a screen, into a little text bubble?

They’re too big for that.

They’re too big for me.

Antoine: Let us know as soon as he wakes up. And let me know if you need anything. I’m here.

But of course, there’s nothing he can do. There’s nothing any of us can do, except wait.