Page 13 of Heart Strings

“But I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me. You mean too much to me, Gracie. More than I can probably say.”

She holds my gaze then, and there’s a warmth there that eases some of the tightness in my chest. “I’m not uncomfortable, Connor. Just... surprised, I guess.”

My eyebrow lifts. “Surprised?”

She nods. “You’re not usually so open about... things.”

I let out a half-hearted chuckle. “Guess whiskey’s good for something,”

“Maybe,” she says, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “But I prefer you sober. You’re less dramatic.”

“Dramatic, huh?” I quirk an eyebrow, leaning against the table. “Guess I’ll have to work on that.”

We eat in silence for a little while, but the blush on her cheeks doesn’t go away. It gnaws at me that she still seems uncomfortable around me, so I push.

“So, you’re going to tell me what I said, or do I have to guess?” I ask, trying to keep the mood light.

She hesitates, then meets my eyes. “You said... you’ve thought about what it would be like… to wake up with me.”

Chapter 9

Connor

The words hit me, a mix of mortification and a sense of dread that I might have crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed. My attempt to keep the mood light evaporates as the gravity of my drunken confession sinks in.

“Shit, I’m really sorry, Gracie,” I say, feeling the weight of my mistake. “I shouldn’t have said that, especially not to you. I was drunk, and—”

She cuts me off with a wave of her hand, offering me a small, reassuring smile. “Connor, it’s okay. People say all sorts of things when they’re drunk. It doesn’t have to change anything between us.”

But it does change things, or at least, it changes how I feel in this moment—raw and exposed. I hang my head in my hands, my hair falling forward to shield my face as I try to hide the turmoil inside. The fear that I’ve just put a crack in the most solid thing in my life over a careless, drunken remark is overwhelming.

“No, you don’t understand. I shouldn’t have said something like that. Not to you,” I murmur, my voice muffled by my hands. The thought of losing her, or even just altering the dynamic of our relationship because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, is unbearable. “Fuck, I’m an idiot.”

She reaches out, her hand hesitating in the air before lightly touching my arm. “Connor, look at me.”

I reluctantly lift my head, meeting her gaze. There’s no anger in her eyes, no discomfort. Just Gracie, with her warm, green eyes filled with understanding.

“You haven’t ruined anything. Our friendship is stronger than a drunken comment. And for what it’s worth, I’m flattered you think of me that way, even if you were drunk when you said it,” she says, and there’s a sincerity in her voice that calms the storm inside me.

“Sure, what you said was unexpected, but it’s not the end of the world. We can just chalk it up to one of those things you say when you’ve had too much to drink.”

I want to believe her, to believe that we can move past this and everything will go back to the way it was. But a part of me knows that’s not entirely possible. My confession, however drunkenly it was made, has revealed a truth I can’t just take back.

“But what if I’ve changed things? What if this is all you think about now when you see me?” The words tumble out, my fears laid bare.

Gracie squeezes my hand, her smile softening. “Connor, you’re my best friend. Yes, it was a surprise hearing you say that, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. We’re more than a single, drunken moment.”

Her words are meant to be comforting, but they only serve to highlight the gravity of what I’ve said. The truth is, I’ve thought about it more than once, what it would be like to wake up next to Gracie. To see her face first thing in the morning, to share more than just friendship.

But admitting that, even to myself, feels like stepping into a minefield. So I get up and start pacing, wondering how I can fix this.

“I caught Ava in bed with Ty,” tumbles out before I can stop it, knowing I’m deflecting, and now I can’t look at her. “I know it’s a stupid reason to get drunk over—”

Before I can finish my sentence, Gracie has her arms wrapped around me. I stiffen up, ignoring the way my body reacts to her holding me. The smell of her familiar strawberry shampoo, however, immediately eases the tension in my body.

“I get it now, you don’t have to say anything else,” she says, while I feel like a complete asshole for diverting the conversation. But now that it’s out there, I can’t take it back.

“I think it was one of the reasons I said what I did last night,” I explain with a sigh. “Because what I have with you I’ve never had with anyone else, and it just—”

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