Chapter 25
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.
But before I can ponder further on our tangled emotions, the sudden clang of the bell above the door snaps us back to reality. I instinctively slide off Connor’s lap as Sophie bursts into the bookstore, her eyes wide with mischief and a smirk playing on her lips.
“Well, isn’t this a scene straight out of a romance novel?”
“Soph!” I exclaim, my cheeks heating up as I scramble to my feet. “What are you doing here?”
She saunters in, her smirk widening as she eyes both of us with an I-knew-it-all-along look. “Came to see how the cleanup was going, but it seems I’ve walked in on something far more interesting.”
Connor’s expression is a mix of embarrassment and annoyance, but he recovers quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, we were just taking a break,” he says, trying to sound casual. But even I can see the bulge in his sweats and I groan, covering my face.
Sophie chuckles, then digs into her purse, pulling out her phone. “Break or no break, you two might want to see this. It’s been out for a while,” she hands the phone to me.
I take it, my heart sinking as I see the screen displaying a tabloid website with a blurry photo of Connor and me kissing up the road from the restaurant from our first date night. The headline screams about a secret romance between the local bookstore owner and the town’s bad boy rockstar.
“Oh no,” I mutter, scrolling through article after article which speculates wildly about our relationship, piecing together a narrative from half-truths and outright guesses.
Connor leans over, his expression turning from surprised to worried as he reads over my shoulder. “Fuck, this isn’t good,” he murmurs, his hand instinctively finding mine and squeezing it. “I didn’t think anyone saw us. The vultures never follow me back here.”
“Apparently, someone did,” Sophie chimes in, not quite able to mask her concern despite her earlier teasing. “This went live a week ago, has anyone contacted you yet?”
I shake my head, my mind racing with the potential fallout. “No, not yet. But it’s only a matter of time, right? With this kind of exposure...”
I don’t even want to know what people think of me and how they know I own a bookstore. Did they do research on me? The more I think about it, the more my heart won’t stop pounding.
“I’ll handle it,” Connor says, and I watch his jaw work. “I can’t fucking believe my PR didn’t contact me about this.”
Connor’s frustration is palpable, and I feel a knot tighten in my stomach at the thought of the unwanted attention this could bring. He’s probably blaming himself since he is the famous one out of us, but like he’s said, he’s never had paparazzi follow him back to our town before.
I squeeze his hand, trying to calm the storm I see brewing in his eyes. “Connor, this isn’t your fault. These things happen, and we... we were just caught off guard.”
He lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes meeting mine. “I know, Gracie, but I should have been prepared. After all the years in the public eye, I should have expected something like this. Especially after... everything.”
“It was a simple dinner and a kiss,” I say softly, trying to keep things in perspective even as my heart races with a mix of fear and annoyance. “It’s not like we were hiding. We just didn’t announce it to the world.”
“Yeah, but now it feels like we’re on display,” he mutters, releasing my hand to rub the back of his neck, a telltale sign of his growing anxiety. “I’ll call my PR first thing and see what they know and what we can do to squash unnecessary rumors. We need to manage this before it spirals out of control.”
Sophie clears her throat and crosses her arms. “Now, I don’t want to sound like a bear with a sore tooth,” she says, glaring at me. “But when were you two going to tell me you went—“
“Tonight, Soph!” I say, pushing her toward the door, much to her amusement. “Bring some wine and I’ll have supper ready!”
“Fine, but you better make that pasta I love,” she says with a pout before she leaves, her departure leaving a tense silence in her wake. Connor and I sit down amid the chaos of the bookstore, the weight of the public’s eyes suddenly heavy on us.
“She’s going to be relentless because I forgot to tell her about our date and…” my cheeks warm and I turn to look at him, and my heart does a little flip.
He looks at me, his expression softening. “You’re amazing, you know that? You’re handling this better than most people who get put under the public’s scrutiny.”
I let out a wry laugh, not feeling particularly graceful. “Feels more like scrambling, but thank you. I just... I don’t want this to change things between us. Not when we’re just figuring it all out.”
“It won’t,” he assures me, reaching for my hand again. “We won’t let it. What we have is ours, and some gossip rag isn’t going to shake that.”
The resolve in his voice is comforting, and I find myself drawing strength from his certainty. We spend the next few minutes in silence, each lost in thought about the steps we’ll need to take next.