Page 12 of Heart Strings

Sophie nods, her expression softening. “Go fix it, Connor. She’s worried about you.”

My heart stills; Sophie knows something. After paying, I take the bag and the coffee, and head to Chapter One.

My hands are shaking slightly, either from the hangover or the nerves, I can’t tell. I push open the door, the familiar bell chiming above me.

Gracie’s at the counter, and when she sees me, her cheeks bloom with color. It’s like a punch to the chest, realizing she’s embarrassed—because of me. My heart sinks even lower… What the fuck did I do to her? What did I say?

“Hey, Tink,” I start, keeping my voice low, hoping it doesn’t crack. “I brought you breakfast.”

She looks at the bag and then at me, her expression a mixture of surprise and something I can’t quite read. “You didn’t have to do that, Connor, but thank you.”

We stand there, the space between us charged with unspoken words. I need to clear the air. So, I set the bag down, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for last night. I didn’t mean to... I mean, I shouldn’t have come to your apartment like that.”

She takes a deep breath, her fingers idly playing with the edge of the paper bag. “You don’t have to explain.”

I sigh, feeling even worse than before. “But I do. I’m sorry. I was drunk, and I shouldn’t have—“

“Connor,” she interrupts, her tone firm. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

I rub the back of my neck, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks. “I just... I was alone at the cabin… alone with my thoughts, and I just needed to quiet my head for a while. I didn’t mean to end up drunk on your bed.”

She reaches over the counter and touches my hand. “You could have come to me before, Con,“ she says, but I shake my head. “And not only that, but you were reckless driving that drunk!”

I blanch at this, remembering just how her mother… fuck. “Shit, you’re right,” I say, feeling the blood drain from my face. “That was careless of me… fuck, Tink, I am so sorry.”

“Connor—“

“No, I am a fucking idiot,” I shake my head. “I just don’t want to waltz back into town and put my problems on you. There’s no way I’m going to be that needy friend, you don’t deserve that after months of not seeing you.”

That is the worst thing I could do, and now she’s definitely more worried about me.

“But that’s what friends are supposed to do. You were there for me when my mom died, Con. You didn’t have time to come back here, and you did,” she says, biting her lip. “You were pretty out of it when you crashed into my bed, though. Anything you want to tell me?”

I can’t meet her eyes, can’t bear to see the judgment or the worry. “Gracie, I...”

But she’s already shaking her head. “You don’t have to say it, not if you’re not ready.”

I want to tell her everything—about Ava, about Ty, about how messed up everything is. But instead, I just mutter a soft, “Thanks.”

Gracie nods, accepting my apology with a grace I know I don’t deserve. “Eat some breakfast, Connor. You look like you could use it.”

I follow her gesture to the couch, taking a seat as she joins me, placing the muffins and coffee on the small table in front of us. She’s watching me, a question in her eyes, but she doesn’t ask it out loud.

I take a bite of the muffin, the familiar taste grounding me. “I’m really sorry, Gracie. For everything.”

She reaches over, her hand covering mine, her touch gentle. “I know you are, and I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk.”

But it’s not enough. Not for me. “Did I... did I do or say something to you last night? I kinda feel like I made a fool of myself.”

Gracie’s blush deepens, and she bites her lip. It’s a telltale sign, and my heart sinks further. “Oh, fuck, I did, didn’t I?”

“You might have mentioned… something,” she breathes.

I groan, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Gracie, I—“

“It’s okay,” she says quickly. “You were drunk. People say things they don’t mean when they’re drunk.”

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