Page 33 of Heart Strings

Her eyes soften, her grip tightening slightly. “I promise. And the same goes for you, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree, the weight of our mutual promise settling around us, comfortable and right.

As I help her gather the papers and start organizing what needs to be done before the sale, I feel a deep sense of partnership. We’re in this together, whatever this new phase brings.

Chapter 25

Gracie

Iwatch Connor sweep up the last of the broken glass and can’t help but chuckle. He’s meticulous, every movement precise, yet there’s a grace to him that contradicts the rough edges he likes to show the world.

He’s wearing black sweats, a black tank top showing off his tattoos and gorgeous biceps and his hair… is tied up in a bun on top of his head. I try not to laugh but it’s proving difficult.

“Careful there, you might actually turn into a decent housekeeper,” I tease, taping up another box filled with books that somehow survived the chaos.

He shoots me a wry smile, standing up to stretch his long arms and my mouth waters at the sight. “Don’t spread it around, Tink. I’ve got a reputation to maintain,” he says before shooting me a wink and continuing with the sweeping.

Our banter today feels light, easy, and for the first time in ages, so do I. Despite the wreckage around us, there’s an optimism blooming inside me, fueled by the laughter and shared moments with Connor.

As I seal another box, I catch Connor watching me with an amused smile.

“What?” I chuckle, tossing a crumpled piece of wrapping paper at him.

“Just thinking how you’ve turned box packing into an art form,” he teases, dodging the paper with a laugh. “You sure you weren’t a Tetris champion in another life?”

“Absolutely,” I shoot back, grinning. “Level 10, packing edition. And you, rockstar, are not keeping up!”

He rolls his eyes playfully and picks up a stack of books, carefully placing them into a box. “Oh, I’m keeping up just fine. Just making sure nothing gets broken—unlike some people.”

I stick my tongue out at him, and we both laugh, the sound echoing in the nearly empty space. It feels good to laugh, to let go of the heaviness that has hung over this place for too long.

As we continue working, the store slowly transforms from a place of business to a canvas of memories, each object we pack away a brushstroke of the past. It’s bittersweet, but underneath it all, there’s a current of excitement for what’s to come.

“We should probably start labeling these boxes,” I suggest, grabbing a marker. “Otherwise, we’ll open them up one day and have no clue what’s what.”

“True,” Connor agrees, taking the marker after I’ve scribbled on a couple. “This one is ‘Books Connor thinks are boring, but Gracie loves.‘”

I laugh, bumping his shoulder with mine. “Hey, those are classics!”

He grins, his blue eyes twinkling. “Classics or not, they put me to sleep faster than any lullaby my mom ever sang.”

We continue like this, packing and joking, until our stomachs remind us it’s well past lunchtime. Connor pulls out sandwiches and soda he grabbed from a nearby deli, and we sit on the floor amid the boxes and books, a makeshift picnic in the ruins of my once orderly store.

As I take a bite of my sandwich, I can’t help but feel grateful for Connor’s presence. “Thanks for helping me with all of this,” I say. “I’d probably be a wreck trying to do it alone.”

Connor reaches over to squeeze my hand, his touch sending a warm pulse through me. “I wouldn’t let you handle this alone, Gracie. You know that.”

I can’t help but smile. “It’s been a rough ride, but I feel like I’m finally heading somewhere exciting.”

He nods, and for a moment, we just sit there, sharing the space and the silence, comfortable and close. Then, almost without thinking, I reach out and wipe a smudge of mustard from the corner of his mouth. My fingers linger a touch longer than necessary, and our eyes lock.

Time seems to slow, the air charged with something indefinable but irresistibly compelling. Connor leans in, his gaze dropping to my lips, and then he’s kissing me again. I respond immediately, allowing his tongue access and the kiss deepens, growing more frenzied.

This seems to give him more incentive, as he picks me up and places me on his lap. I know I should probably feel mortified straddling my best friend, but common sense isn’t in the room right now.

The world narrows down to just the two of us, to the taste of him, the feel of his lips on mine. He pulls my flush against his body and my cheeks redden as I feel him harden underneath me. He breaks off the kiss and trails his lips down my neck and I gasp when I feel his pierced tongue against my skin.

His hold on my hips tightens, and he grinds into my core, murmuring a strained “Gracie” while my mind feels like it has fizzled into oblivion.

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