Page 9 of Heart Strings

“Is that...” Her voice trails off, but her eyes are wide, locked on the tattoo. Her hand moves as if to touch it, then she pulls back. “A Tinkerbell?”

I nod, feeling a mix of nerves and pride. “Yeah. Got it a few months back,” I say, running a hand over it. “You know, for Tink.”

Gracie gasps softly, and I brace myself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. “Connor, you... you got a tattoo for me?”

Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and there’s an emotion there I haven’t seen before. It’s overwhelming and raw, and it makes my heart kick against my chest.

“Well, yeah,” I admit, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’ve been... I mean, you’re important to me, Gracie. You’re my best friend, and I wanted to... I guess I wanted to have a piece of you with me, no matter where I go.”

For a moment, she’s silent, just staring at the small fairy inked on my skin. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across her face. She reaches out then, her fingers tracing the outline of Tinkerbell gently.

“You’ve kept me grounded, like an anchor. You’re my Tink, always pulling me back when I’m about to fly off the handle. It felt right, you know?” I say it as if it’s the simplest explanation.

Of course, I don’t mention how Ava freaked out when she saw it, knowing what my nickname for Gracie was. She was always insecure, thinking there was more between me and my best friend, when it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Well…

Her finger lingers on my skin, her touch light as air, yet it anchors me more than she probably knows. “That’s... Connor, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she says, her voice thick with unshed tears.

I shrug, trying to play it off, but inside, I’m soaring. “It’s nothing,” I tell her. “Just ink.”

“I love it,” she says simply, but her eyes are speaking volumes.

We don’t say much after that, but we don’t need to. Some things are better felt than said. And as we sit there, side by side on the dock, I realize that this tattoo, this piece of art that’s now a part of me, it’s not just about holding onto a piece of her. It’s about acknowledging that my life is better with her in it—whether I’m on the road or right here by this lake.

I wish I could ask her about her new ink, but since it’s not visible in her swimsuit, she’ll know I saw it when she was naked and shit would be awkward again.

Gracie breaks the silence after, her voice soft, “Connor, whatever it is... you know you can tell me, right?”

I do know that. But some truths are like lead, too heavy to lift, too heavy to carry. I manage a nod, not trusting my voice.

She leans her head on my shoulder, a gesture as familiar as the chords I play on my guitar. “When you’re ready,” she says, and I’m grateful for the lack of pressure.

We stay like that until the sun begins to dip low, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It’s beautiful, but I can’t fully appreciate it, not with the turmoil inside me.

“Hungry?” I ask, hoping the distraction of food will keep my mind from wandering down paths it shouldn’t go.

“Starving,” she replies with a laugh, and we make our way back to the cabin.

I fire up the grill, and we cook some burgers, the scent mingling with the lake air. We eat on the porch, the silence between us now filled with the sounds of nature—the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the distant lapping of water against the shore.

As the day fades into evening and the sky turns a soft orange, I realize that this is what I needed. Not the screaming fans or the flashing lights, but peace, quiet, and Gracie.

I watch her as she cleans up, her movements efficient and familiar. There’s a grace to her, even in the simplest of tasks, and I feel a surge of affection for this woman who’s been my constant in a life that’s anything but.

“Thanks for today, Tink. I needed this,” I say, the honesty of my words hanging between us.

She turns to me, a soft smile on her lips. “Anytime, Connor. You know I’m always here.”

And I do know. I’ve always known. But it’s in moments like this that I truly understand the depth of what that means.

Chapter 7

Gracie

The bell above the door jingles, pulling me from my reverie. I’ve been standing behind the counter of Chapter One, absentmindedly rearranging the same stack of books for the past hour, lost in thought about yesterday.

The day spent with Connor by the lake was perfect, almost too perfect, because now it’s left me with a lingering sense of worry. There was something in the way he clenched his jaw whenever Ty’s name came up, something that didn’t sit right.

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