Page 116 of Beautiful Thing

We trek down the mountainside, past Rainbow’s backyard and beyond. The air is perfectly still, aside from the crunch of snow and ice under our feet. Every branch is covered in a heavy layer of white. Archer’s grip on my hand is tight as we follow an unmarked trail into the wintry void. I notice that his powerful stride has returned and there’s not even the slightest indication that he ever sprained his ankle.

My heart starts to beat faster when I realize where he’s leading me. The waterfall.

He’s leading me to the waterfall.

There’s this stupid folktale about the waterfall that’s been circulating around Starlight Falls for as long as I can remember. The elders say that there’s something special in the water out here. Something that makes people fall in love. But I don’t know if I believe any of that.It’s silly, right? No one with a lick of common sense would ever believe in such a silly superstition.

Except I’ve heard of more than a few success stories about the powers of the waterfall. Each of my friends included.

Yet still, I push my trepidation aside, continuing the slow hike through the trees. The icy water crashes violently against the rocks below. But when we make it down the trail to the water’s edge, we find a portion of the falls where there’s only a trickle of water moving through the otherwise turbulent-flowing falls. It’s just ice.

Long, thick icicles dangle from the rocky outcroppings before us. Like mammoth-sized fangs, gleaming blue-green under the overcast sky. Even though I’m not a superstitious girl, I have to admit thatthisis quite magical.

We select a bench along the water’s edge. I set down a thick blanket over the frosty wooden slats, and Archer digs our food out of the backpack he brought along. Then we drop down on the bench, sitting closely side by side, silently staring ahead, and listening to the crackling of the icy water.

Again and again, my gaze drifts to my quiet companion. He’s so beautiful. His dark hair curls around the edge of his black knitted hat. Falling snowflakes dust the expanse of his mile-wide shoulders. Every time our eyes meet, he smiles boyishly and my cheeks break out into a fever-like blush.

After we’re done eating, Archer stands. “Come. I want to show you something.”

Together, we venture even closer to the waterfall. Archer ducks behind a curtain of long, dangly icicles. Holding my breath, I follow him into a cave, big rocks surrounding us on the right and the frozen waterfall surrounding us on the left like a sheet of diamonds.

I spin around in amazement. My eyes cloud with tears. Yes. It’s so freaking beautiful that it brings me to tears.

Archer reaches up, his long, blunt fingertips touching a thick tentacle of ice in awe. Tugging off my mittens, I reach up too, letting my fingers trail over that same icicle, over Archer’s fingertips. Our hands intertwine.

The man turns to me with a smile. Then he wraps me in a tight embrace. The pad of his thumb wipes my tears away.

Forget what I said about not believing in the folklore. With the way Archer’s dark brown eyes glimmer at me, I cantotallysee how a girl might fall in love here.

“So thewaterfall, huh?” We both know what this place is famous for. Everyone knows it.

His gaze fills with a tenderness that makes me melt despite the cold. “Can you blame a man for trying?”

My breath catches. Hewantsthis. Hewantsme to fall in love with him. What he probably doesn’t realize is, I already am.

I don’t let myself dwell upon what loving Archer might entail in a practical, real-world kind of way. Hearts might get broken and expectations might be disappointed. But for now, I just play along with the magic.

Rising onto my tiptoes, I loop my hand around the back of his neck and pull him closer. His lips meet mine in a soft kiss.

46

ARCHER

“Pink?” Nolan grumbles, yanking his bow tie away from his throat. “Why do we have to wear pink? I look dumb in pink.”

I stand in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror, tugging and pulling at the bow tie around my own neck. I’m feeling all out of sorts in these fancy clothes.

I’m much more comfortable in weathered jeans, a flannel and work boots. But with all these weddings my siblings have lined up for the foreseeable future, I’d better get used to dressing up.

Felix lifts a shoulder nonchalantly as he strikes pose after ridiculous pose in the huge mirror. “What Daphne wants, Daphne gets.” He aims finger-guns at his reflection before blowing imaginary smoke off of each muzzle.

I shake my head.What a little dumbass…

My brothers and I are all here for the final fitting, and Felix is in a great mood as he tries on his wedding tux. It suits him, I guess.

Ronan elbows the groom-to-be out of the way to get to the mirror. “I don’t know what your problem is, Noles. I look great in pink. Maybe I’ll wear it more often.”

Mason seems to agree, looking pretty impressed with his own reflection. “Me, too. I read somewhere that men who refuse to wear pink just aren’t comfortable with their own masculinity.”

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