Page 8 of Heart Strings

I roll my eyes at this. “I know every crack in the wall facing the front counter, Con. Closing for a day won’t make a massive dent in my finances,” I say before turning back to him. “We could spend the day by your lake and just … be.”

The smile on his face tells me that’s just what he wants, so I get my things ready for a day at the lake with my best friend.

Chapter 6

Connor

Islide into the driver’s seat, the image of Gracie’s exposed skin burned into my mind. It’s not just the surprise of it all; it’s that tattoo—a delicate blue butterfly surrounded by music notes resting on her hip bone.

Fuck.

How had I never seen it before? What did it mean? I want to ask about it, to discover the story behind the ink, but the look of sheer horror on her face earlier is enough to keep my curiosity locked down.

The engine hums to life, breaking the silence of the morning as we head towards my cabin by the lake. I sneak a glance at her. She’s staring out the window, lost in thought, and probably still a bit embarrassed. I focus on the road, letting the distance between us fill with the soft sounds of the morning.

“So, how’s everyone?” Gracie’s voice cuts through the quiet, and I’m grateful for the distraction.

“Leo’s good. He took some time off to go to Bali, find some ‘inner peace’ or something,” I reply with a chuckle. “And Maya’s been laying down some new tracks, experimenting with her sound.”

“That’s great,” she says with genuine interest, “and Ty?”

The question lands like a punch, and I feel a simmering anger at the mention of his name. My grip on the steering wheel tightens, and I take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice even.

“Yeah, Ty’s... Ty,” I say, the words coming out colder than I intend.

I can feel Gracie’s gaze, heavy with concern, but I keep my eyes on the road. “Connor, is everything okay? You seem...”

I shake my head, cutting her off. “I don’t want to get into it, not now.” I keep my eyes fixed on the road, but I can feel her concern.

“Okay, if you’re sure...” she trails off, giving me space, but I can tell she’s filing it away for later. That’s how Gracie works; she never pushes, but she never forgets.

The rest of the drive is quieter, the unasked questions hanging between us. When we arrive at the cabin, the sight of the lake, with its serene expanse, offers a semblance of peace.

I grab the cooler and our towels, leading the way to our usual spot by the water. The gentle lapping of the waves against the shore and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze provide a welcome respite from the cacophony of my mind.

Gracie’s excitement is palpable as she gazes at the water, a stark contrast to the heaviness I’ve carried since the tour ended. It’s a reminder of why I came back to this town, why I always come back to her.

“Race you to the water?” Gracie suddenly challenges, the mischief in her eyes reminding me of simpler times.

“You’re on,” I say, and for a moment, I let go of everything—the tour, Ava, Ty, the betrayal. It’s just Gracie and me, two friends racing towards the lake, like we don’t have a care in the world.

“You gonna swim, or just brood all day?” she calls out, a teasing lilt in her voice.

A half-hearted smirk tugs at my lips, and I start to shed my clothes, down to my swim trunks. “You coming in or just gonna watch?” I throw back at her.

We splash into the water, laughter mingling with the sound of waves, and it feels like a cleansing of sorts. I dive under, letting the coolness envelop me, and when I surface, Gracie is there, her smile bright and her eyes clear.

We swim for a while, talking about everything and nothing, the conversation easy but never straying too close to the topics we’re both avoiding. When we tire, we float on our backs, staring up at the sky in companionable silence.

It’s these moments that I realize how much I’ve missed—how much I’ve missed her and for a moment, everything is as it was before. Before Ava, before my life became a tabloid headline.

We head back to shore, and I can’t help but notice the way the water droplets glisten on her skin, the way she pushes her wet hair back from her face. She’s beautiful, always has been, but for some reason, there’s a new awareness prickling my skin.

No, I can’t think like that now. She’s Tink, she’s my best friend and I am not about to turn her into my rebound. She’s more important to me than that.

We settle onto the dock with our feet dangling in the water. As I sit there, letting the sun dry my skin, I notice Gracie’s gaze fixed on my chest.

I’d almost forgotten about the new ink that now adorned my skin—a tribute to her, a little Tinkerbell silhouette poised right over my heart.

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