Page 81 of Avalanche
The truth is, there is no way I’m walking down the aisle—or down the beach—using crutches. Not when I’ve finally got my cast off.
Technically, I’m still supposed to wear a walking boot, at least when I’m walking around. But sand is soft. And it’s only for a little bit.
“You’re putting your walking boot on the second the ceremony is over,” Liam tells me, as if reading my thoughts. “I don’t want any arguments about it.”
“When the photos are over.”
I don’t want to see that boot in my wedding photos. Don’t want a reminder of what Tom did to me to scream at me every time I look through our wedding album or walk down the hallway of whatever house Eddie buys for us.
Liam’s eyes narrow in evident disapproval. I stare back at him, unmoved.
“Are you sure she’s coming?” Matty presses close to Liam’s other side, his face pale despite the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun. “What if her parents kidnapped her? I don’t think they were very thrilled about the whole marrying-five-guys thing.”
Antoine snorts, reaching out to take Matty’s hand in his while Eddie squints to where a canopy of trees line the beach access. That’s where Lily will come from. Any minute now. Any minute.
A trail of flowers marks a pathway across the sand to where the five of us stand, our backs to the ocean. The celebrant, one of Lily best friends who got a licence just so he could marry the six of us, stands with his arms crossed on the other side of a bower made of driftwood and decorated with sea shells.
Henry, that’s his name. A broad-shouldered surfer-type who had wrapped Lily up in a hug the moment he’d seen her, then proceeded to glare with suspicion at the five of us. Even after spending yesterday afternoon at his place for a barbecue, I’m still not convinced he approves.
But he wanted to be the celebrant because, as he put it: ‘there’s no one else on this island who is crazy enough to do a quasi-marriage thing for six people.’
“She’ll come,” Eddie replies confidently. “Her parents might not approve, but they’re too scared of doing anything to upset Antoine.”
Antoine makes a choked sound and digs one bare-footed toe into the sand.
“Ethan is with them.” We all turn in surprise at Henry’s gruff voice. His usual frown has softened, and his eyes are fixed on the beach access with a placid sort of expectation. “So are Summer and Lani. They’ll make sure Lily gets here.” He flashes us the briefest of smiles, white teeth against sun-darkened skin, then adds wryly: “They know what Lily’s parents are like, don’t worry.”
I give him a grateful smile, then turn my attention back to the beach access, trying not to let my gaze linger on the watching crowd. It’s a small group, really. A handful of people clustered together on a few rows of folding chairs, decorated with ribbons and flowers that dance in the breeze. But they’re all strangers, except my own parents and my brother and sister.
“My grandparents will love you,” Lily had promised last night when I’d expressed my trepidation of meeting everyone. “Trust me. You’ll probably be their favourite.”
I swallow, straighten my shoulders, then run one hand over my linen button-down shirt. It’s strange to be wearing just one layer of clothing after so many winter seasons. Stranger still to feel the sun on my skin, even if it’s only afternoon sun. I feel pale and out of place here among all these people with sun-kissed hair and tanned skin.
“There she is,” Matty breathes.
I see her at the same moment, my breath punching out of me with relief.
“Mon dieu,” Antoine whispers. “Mais… she is si belle.”
“Fuck,” Eddie agrees, earning a stern grumble of reprimand from Liam.
But I can’t say anything at all.
Her friends walk ahead of her, Lani and Summer and Ethan full of smiles as they trail footprints across the sand for Lily to follow. Her parents walk on either side of her, looking distinctly uncomfortable as they stare at the five of us: the five men who are going to spend the rest of their life with their daughter.
The five men they’ll have to contend with if they ever try to hurt her again.
Though, to be fair, Antoine is probably the only one they’re really scared of. Which is ironic, considering he’s probably the sweetest of all of us.
Still, there’s something satisfying about seeing them forced to walk at her side.
And then she’s standing in front of us—in front of me—with a dreamy sort of smile dimpling her cheeks and the sunset glowing in her eyes. Her hair is loose, fluttering around her ears, framing her face. A lei of tiny white flowers drapes across her neck, strands woven together and filling the air with a heady, tropical scent that reminds me of jasmine, only stronger. She’s dressed in the simplest of white dresses, a gauzy, thin-strapped thing that dances around her ankles, brushing the top of her bare feet and catching in the sunlight. She clutches a bouquet of flowers in front of her, holding the ribbon-wrapped stems so tightly the backs of her knuckles are white.
“Hi,” she breathes, turning that bright-eyed look on each of us in turn. When her eyes meet mine, I feel my breath catch, my heart leaping into my throat before picking up a wild rhythm.
“Hi,” I reply, my voice raspy.
“We are gathered here today…” Henry begins, his voice carrying out to the small crowd, mingling with the lapping waves. But I find myself getting lost in Lily’s eyes, in the way her lips part as she looks at the five of us, the way a faint blush dances across her freckled cheeks.
