Florence laughed breathlessly into the microphone before turning and pointing toward Cassie, drawing another roar from the crowd.
Cassie shook her head, grinning as she pointed right back toward Florence.
Then both of them turned, gesturing toward the orchestra behind them as renewed applause thundered through the hall all over again.
“That’s my girl!”he shouted, shoving two fingers into his mouth, letting out a piercing whistle sharp enough to cut through half the auditorium.
“That’s my fuckin’ girl!”
Florence blinked toward the audience with a startled laugh.
But Cassie—
Cassie froze, her smile faltering as her gaze swept through the crowd.It passed over him once before snapping back hard, her eyes widening when she finally saw him.
Then she was moving.
She turned so fast her gown whipped around her legs, hurrying toward the side of the stage, only to stop short halfway there, spin back around, shove the violin and bow at Florence, and bolt again, kicking off her heels mid-run.
Barefoot now, gown hitched halfway up her legs, she disappeared down the stairs.
And Nash—
Nash was moving too, shoving past people and into the aisle while applause continued crashing through the auditorium.
They collided near the front row, Nash hauling her straight off her feet as her arms flew around his neck.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, grabbing his face, grinning.“You’re here.You’re finally here.”
“We’re going viral.”
Cassie walked barefoot into her bedroom, water bottle in one hand, phone in the other, wearing nothing but the white button-down she’d torn off Nash somewhere between the elevator and her bedroom.
Beyond the tall apartment windows, Manhattan glowed gold and white, the streets below shining dark beneath the rain pelting the fire escape.Only her small bedside lamp was on, the soft light catching on scattered clothes and fallen shoes.Hell, she was lucky she’d managed to get the violin safely inside before they made a wreck of each other.
It still didn’t feel entirely real.
Nash in New York.Nash in her apartment.Nash stretched out across her bed in only boxer briefs and one sock barely hanging on, looking like a man who’d been very thoroughly and savagely fucked.Every few minutes, she caught herself staring at him and grinning all over again.
“Look at this,” she said, climbing back into bed and setting the water beside a small, framed photo—her and Connor at her graduation, the tear down the middle barely noticeable.
“What’s that?”Nash asked, cracking an eyelid.
Cassie shoved the phone into his hand.“Jo just sent me this.”
On screen, a TikTok video replayed shaky concert footage of Cassie shoving her violin at a startled Florence Welch before bolting barefoot offstage.The camera jerked wildly after her, catching the exact moment she launched herself at Nash.
Her stomach flipped watching it.
Not with embarrassment.But with that same overwhelming rush she’d felt the second she realized it was him in the crowd—that somehow, impossibly, Nash had found his way into this part of her life too.
“Yeah, well,” he said, amusement flickering across his face as he watched it play again.“You did run offstage like a fuckin’ lunatic.”
“No regrets,” she replied with a shrug, despite the fact that Natalia was probably going to tear her a new one.That, and she was almost definitely getting roasted by the entire orchestra for the rest of her natural life.
Nash snorted loudly, thumb scrolling through the comments.
“‘That violinist saw her man and said fuck this symphony.’”
