Page 17 of Heart Strings

“Okay, I think I am more than buzzed right now,” I say as I fan myself. “And I’m proving Soph right, but can we please go?”

Connor looks relieved when I say this, and he puts his wineglass down. “I thought you’d never ask. But I have a better idea,” he says, then he grabs my hand and walks us out before I could ask what he means.

Chapter 12

Connor

Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me? Why did I suddenly decide to act like an overprotective big brother?

Driving back, the truck’s engine hums softly, a counterpoint to the turmoil churning inside me. Tonight was supposed to be about unwinding, yet here I am, knotted up over Gracie. Seeing those guys at the wine tasting, all of them checking her out in that black dress, stirred something in me I can’t quite place.

When did she become so beautiful? It’s not like she wasn’t always pretty, but tonight, she seemed to shine differently. And this dress she’s wearing… I’m sure I’ve seen her in it before, so why is she capturing my attention now?

I shake my head, trying to dislodge these thoughts. This is Gracie, my best friend since forever.

I decided a change of scenery might do us both some good, so I head towards an open field near the lake by my cabin. It’s quiet there, peaceful. The kind of place where you can forget the rest of the world exists.

“We’re here,” I announce as I park, cutting the engine. The sudden silence feels heavy, filled with all the things we haven’t said tonight.

Gracie, a little buzzed and more relaxed than she’s been all evening, smiles at me. “This is perfect, Connor.”

We hop into the bed of the truck with our legs dangling off the edge, wrapping ourselves in the blanket I keep stashed for chilly nights. The lake reflects the moon, a silver sheen that makes everything feel a bit magical.

Leaning back, Gracie rests her head on my shoulder, her hair tickling my neck. The smell of her strawberry shampoo makes me smile and I breathe out a sigh.

“Did you ever notice how the stars seem to shine brighter out here?” she asks, her voice tinged with that lightness that only comes from a good evening.

“Yeah, I guess they do,” I reply, looking up. In truth, I’ve never paid much attention, but with her head on my shoulder, everything feels different, more intense.

“They always seem brighter when you’re home,” she says with a smile to her voice and my heart fucking jumps into my throat. “I’m glad you’re back, Connor… and I’m sorry… sorry things didn’t work out with Ava. I know you liked her a lot.”

I clench my jaw. “It was doomed from the start, though, I just kept that from you,” I say and her head whips up.

Her head snaps up, and she narrows her eyes at me. “What? Why would you hide that from me?” She asks, and I shrug.

“Because I didn’t always want to put my problems on you, Tink. Shit between Ava and me started going downhill right after your mom’s funeral,” I admit with a sigh. “She didn’t want me to come back here because she had something planned, but you were more important than some dinner party where I would be a show pony.”

Gracie bites her bottom lip and looks down. “I’m sorry, Con. I didn’t mean to make you choose between me and her,” she says with a sniff that hits me right in the heart.

“Hey, don’t you dare,” I find myself saying, the words more a growl than anything. My hand moves almost of its own accord, reaching out to gently coax her chin upwards, ensuring her gaze locks with mine.

“You needed me, Gracie. More than any of those so-called friends with their high-society nonsense. Don’t you get it? I’d always choose you, every single time, over any of that superficial crap.”

Her eyes, wide and searching, flick up to mine, then, almost without realizing, drift down to my lips. It’s a fleeting moment, but it’s charged with something electric. Acting on impulse, my thumb brushes lightly across her lower lip, but the sharp intake of breath from her shatters the tension like glass.

What the hell was I about to let happen?!

I clear my throat, then, on a whim, I ask, “You know all about my ambitions with the band and you pushed me to pursue them, but I’ve noticed that you never really talked about yours.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then she peers up at me with those green eyes that always seem to see right through me, her cheeks flushed from the wine or the question, I can’t tell.

“I don’t know, Connor. I feel too guilty just thinking about it...” she says, looking away.

I frown, puzzled by her response. “Guilty? Why would dreaming make you feel guilty?”

She lets out a sigh, still avoiding my eyes. “Because... it’s silly, but I’ve always wanted to see the world, you know? Travel to all those places we’ve only read about and write books about them. But...” Her voice trails off, laden with a weight I can sense but not fully understand.

“But what?” I prompt, wanting her to trust me with her thoughts, her fears.

---