Page 60 of Embraced in Ink

This was what she loved.

The music, the cello beneath her fingers, and between her legs.

She loved the fact that she could feel a connection to the audience as they moved with her while she continued to play. And as she reached the last note, the one that made her catch her breath, the one that stung the backs of her eyes as she transcended into the song, she let it linger, and then there was silence.

Absolute silence.

When the first claps began, she opened her eyes and smiled.

While she loved the applause and the fact that she connected with others, despite what some may think, her favorite part was the music itself. The idea that others could listen and have their interpretation of the song was also a significant part of why she did this. But not the only piece.

She let out a breath and then set her cello aside so she could stand, bowing a bit as the audience began to cheer. She waved, trying to look into the faces under the bright lights to see those she loved, but she couldn’t. She knew they were there. She had seen them before she even started, after all.

But now she was tired and wanted to go home.

She wasn’t as young as she had been when she first started this life of hers. Not being in her early twenties made a big difference. But she was in shape and practiced enough that she could have probably gone for a couple of additional hours before she passed out.

However, instead of going out to a party, or dancing the night away, she was going home with Marcus to get some sleep.

She had added this performance at the last minute, so to make sure that she was ready for it, she had practiced day in and out. To the point where the two of them hadn’t been on another date since she’d first said yes to the concert. She hadn’t seen her family and rarely talked to anyone. No, she had been focused on her music, to the detriment of everyone and everything else.

Perhaps she needed to change that. Because it wasn’t only her now, she was an item. A duo. A couple. She had never been good at dating, so maybe she needed to find a way to be good at this.

She exited the stage, and her assistant was there to help her with her cello.

She used her assistant, Chelsea, mostly on tour, because honestly, Bristol couldn’t do it all. Chelsea also helped with her social media, though Bristol tried to be herself as much as possible on there. Although Instagram was pretty much the only place she really visited anymore.

It was odd to think that in some circles, people knew her name and her music. She wasn’t merely Bristol Montgomery, daughter, sister, friend, and now fiancée.

She smiled at that, and Chelsea gave her a curious look.

“Nothing, thank you for everything.”

“No problem. I’ll get everything ready for you, but you’re all set. You can head home if you want. I know you must be tired—this sort of crept up on us.”

“I know. And I know there’s that cocktail party that I’m really too tired for.”

“Everybody already knew you would be tired. And we made sure that it wasn’t you being a diva or anything,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes.

Bristol grinned at that. “Yeah, we don’t need that to be my reputation.”

“You, a diva? Never,” Colin said, and she stiffened. She hadn’t expected that British accent. No, she had thought Colin had gone home.

Apparently, he hadn’t.

Now, here he was, backstage at her event, where even her family wasn’t allowed.

Of course, he had wheedled his way back here.

But others were watching, so she pasted on a smile and air-kissed his cheeks.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she said, trying not to sound accusatory.

“Of course, I’m here. You are my girl.”

“Colin,” she warned, still through a smile on her face.

“I just wanted to tell you that you’re doing fantastic. You truly are. Look at all of this. I mean, I’m so proud of you. Look how far you’ve come.”