Page 5 of Heart Strings

He groans and sits up, breathing out a sigh before he looks over at me and gives me a sleepy smile. “Thanks, Tink. Wanna come in for some coffee?”

“I’d love that,” I say, knowing his cabin is stocked with the good stuff because he usually has someone come in to stock up his place a month before he knows he’s due to come back here.

We get out of the car, with Connor finding his hidden spare key before opening the door and gesturing for me to walk in first. I can’t help but smile; even though he’s a broody, famous rockstar who’s half dead on his feet, he’s still a gentleman.

“I’ll get the coffees ready, you go wait in the living room,” I say as I walk towards the kitchen and listen to how he chuckles while closing the door behind him.

“Yes, Ma’am. God, I forgot how bossy you can be,” he says, shooting me a wink and narrowly missing a swipe from me. With a sigh, he falls down on the couch; legs splayed over the armrest and an arm over his face.

“You can be so lucky that I’m bossy, Mr. Traveling Rockstar, or who else would keep you in line?” I say as I get everything ready in the kitchen.

Then I hear him chuckling low and faintly hear him say. “Yeah… lucky to have someone like you who cares…” but before I can say anything to that, I hear the unmistakable sound of him snoring.

Yip, he’s exhausted and coffee is definitely not a good idea.

Putting the cups away, I let the coffee maker do its thing for when he wakes up, then I walk to his bedroom and grab a blanket to throw over him. I get on my haunches in front of him, tucking the blanket securely before breathing out a sigh.

The exhaustion shows on his face; the worry lines I never noticed before don’t even smooth out as he sleeps and it leaves me wondering what exactly happened. Knowing Connor, he’ll tell me eventually, so I let it go for now.

I smile as I look at him sleeping, reaching out to cup his bearded cheek before I get to my feet. “It’s good to have you home, Con,” I whisper before giving him a kiss on his forehead and walking out of the cabin.

Chapter 4

Connor

The stiff ache in my back is the first thing that greets me as consciousness slowly filters in. I’m on the couch, my body contorted into an uncomfortable position that only adds to the soreness of my muscles.

It takes me a moment, a few blinks, to register where I am—in my own cabin, a place that’s supposed to be a retreat from the world but now feels like a prison of memories.

I sit up, elbows digging into my knees, head heavy in my hands as the images from last night—or was it nights ago?—flash viciously through my mind.

Ty and Ava, tangled in sheets, the betrayal stark and vivid in their exposed flesh; my best friend letting my girlfriend ride the fuck out of him. I shake my head, willing away the visuals that claw at my insides.

Not now. I can’t think about it now.

I glance around, half expecting Gracie to be here, but she’s not. She must have been here, though; the soft blanket draped over me is proof of that. Only Gracie would think to cover me up.

I reach for my phone, and the glare from the screen is a jolt to my eyes. It’s past midnight. The missed calls and texts from Ava and Ty crowd the notification bar, but I swipe them away with a bitterness that tastes like ash in my mouth.

Instead, I open a new message to my manager and type out words that might as well be etched into my soul:

Taking an indefinite hiatus. Need some time.

I need space, I need silence, I need... Gracie.

The phone clatters onto the coffee table as I stand, feeling every inch of my frame protest. A hot shower is what I need to wash away the grime of sleep and the residue of last night’s revelations. The water is scalding, needles against my skin, but I welcome the pain. It’s something real, something tangible, unlike the chaos in my head.

After a shower that washes away the grogginess but none of the ache, I walk into the kitchen. There, on the counter, is a plate of mac and cheese, Gracie’s specialty. It’s still slightly warm, and next to it, a note in her scrawling handwriting

- ‘Eat up, rockstar. - G’.

It’s so Gracie, to think of the small things. She even remembered that mac and cheese is my comfort food. Her thoughtfulness, the normalcy of her care, brings a smile to my face. I eat because it’s Gracie’s cooking, because she left it for me, because in this mixed-up world, it’s one thing that still makes sense.

With the plate cleaned and the silence of the cabin pressing in on me, I make a decision. I need to be with the one person who makes everything else fade into the background.

The drive to her place is mechanical, muscle memory taking over where my mind is fogged with exhaustion and a numbing pain. I park in her driveway and sit for a moment, gathering the shards of myself together before getting out of the car.

Gracie hides a spare key in a loose brick underneath her welcome mat. For emergencies, she said, or just if I needed to crash. I let myself in, the familiar scent of her apartment wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

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