Alexa was quiet for a moment. A beat too long, it seemed because Sawyer's face clouded with worry. The muscles in his chest were tight as his body hovered over hers. Even still, she could feel his heart racing. His hands caressed the side of her face, brushing her hair back. “Say somethin'.”

“I-I-I can't,” she said, honestly. “Nothing I could say would ever sound that good.”

He offered her a smile and although it was small, it reached his eyes and danced behind them. “You liked that, did you?”

She nodded.

“I guess I'll have to remember to tell you all the time.”

She liked the idea of him wanting to tell her anything all the time. “I might just love you forever, Sawyer West.”

“It'd be an honor to be loved by you,” he whispered. “Even if it's only for a second, for a minute, for an hour, but especially forever.”

Could his words possibly be any more perfect? She needed to change the subject before self control was merely something to reminisce about. The things he spoke so effortlessly about would indeed be her undoing. “Lane said maybe you'd teach me the piano,” she said.

He buried his face in her neck, his breath tickling the nerves in her skin. “He did, did he?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “And I really need you to stop doing that.”

He applied the smallest pressure with his lips at the base of her throat. “This.”

“Yes,” she said. “That among other things.”

She couldn't see his face but she felt the curve of his mouth. He was grinning. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

He kissed her neck again. “You're bossy.”

“I'm thinking rationally,” she corrected. “At least for now.”

He ignored her. The shirt she wore gave him relatively easy access to her collarbone which he kissed from one side to the other, before mumbling, “Stay with me tonight.”

“If I say yes, will you stop doing that?”

Sawyer lowered his fingertips and let them gently rake across her stomach and she groaned. “Maybe.” He looked at her with lidded eyes and gave her a crooked, half-smile. “Okay, I'm sorry. You really want me to teach you how to play something?”

“Yes,” she said. “I'd like that very much.”

Sawyer righted himself and stood, offering his outstretched hand to help her up. He sighed and Alexa wasn't sure if it was out of irritation or relief—maybe both. “Go sit at the bench,” he whispered. “I'll be there in a second.”

He left the room and she followed his instructions, taking at seat at the piano. Did he leave because the tension building between them was too much? She was no expert, but she imagined Sawyer had far more experience than her in that department—surely he wasn't having a difficult time controlling himself. When she heard the kitchen cupboard open and a tap turn on, he answered her question. He was getting himself a glass of water.

She traced her fingers along the cool ivory of the keys. It was without question a stunning piano and suddenly she felt as though perhaps she shouldn't touch it. She withdrew her hand like it was touching a flame.

She didn't hear him return to the room, but the dark, distressed denim of his jeans flanked either side of her hips and slid down her legs as glided himself in behind her. His voice was deep and low and sent a vibration of shivers straight down her spine like electricity. “It's not going to bite you, sugar.”

The muscles in his body were strong and she found herself grateful that he was so solid because there was nothing else keeping her upright. Her spine was made of Jello and her heart was nearly in her throat. She swallowed the lump that was there and wondered if she should have just stayed on the couch. Had she been able to predict piano lessons would have been like this, she would have taken them up long ago. She'd be an expert by now, composing her own pieces.

“You have to start by touchin' the piano,” he said softly. “Put your pinky finger on the A.”

“Where would that be?” she didn't dare turn around to look at him, instead pressing her back to his chest to resist the urge.

His fingers traveled the length of her arm and brushed across the tops of her hands until his thumb was on hers, his pointer finger on hers and so on. The two of them molded into one. “The A is here,” he whispered, setting their small finger on the elusive A.

God help her. This was a thousand times more intimate than she'd bargained for. She needed to keep it together.

“Put your middle finger here,” he placed her middle finger just one key over, “and your thumb here.” He applied pressure and pushed all three fingers down consecutively. He removed his fingers from over hers and settled them on her side. “Play it,” he said.

She pushed down same as he had.

“That's A Minor. Play it again,” he directed.

She did as he said.

“Good,” he whispered. He repositioned her fingers again, this time on different keys.

“Play it,” he said.

She pushed down.

“Again.”

After she'd played the second chord, Sawyer showed her a third and a fourth and then showed her how to put them together to make something that sounded almost musical.

She clasped her hands together excitedly and placed them under her chin, finally looking at him for the first time since they sat down. “I did it!”

Sawyer smiled. “You did it.”

“I'm awesome!”

“You are.” He shifted around behind her, making her hyper-aware of nearly every single part of his body. It was torture. “Okay, you play what I showed you, I'll play the other part and we'll make music together.”

Alexa giggled. “You have a great deal of undeserved faith in my skills.”

“I'm a good teacher,” Sawyer said.

“You're a totally hot teacher.”

Sawyer laughed. “Ready?” He pressed forward again, settling one hand expertly over hers and the other on the keys on the opposite end of the piano. “One, two, three, four,” he counted. 

On his go, Alexa hit the keys she'd been taught, in what she assumed was the proper rhythm. Sawyer's hands glided across the keys and watching them was alarmingly steamy, or maybe it was the way his body was moving with his hands. All Alexa knew was this might not end well—or at least the way she'd planned. She wasn't entirely sure she could hold back.

When Sawyer began to sing so softly it was hardly audible, just a faint whisper in her ear, her hands fell from the piano, resting lazily on her knees and she knew she was done for.

 As he sang the lyrics, he found it ironic that they were about one’s faults but wanting to be a better person for someone else. About becoming the kind of person his stepfather would have loathed.

His fingertips danced across the keys and the weight of her body slumped against his and he was more than happy to keep them both steady. He'd never let her fall.

As he neared the final notes of the song, Alexa twisted her body around on the bench and found his lips. She was far more forceful then she'd ever been with him, not that he was going to complain. He easily picked her up and finished turning her completely around so she straddled him.

She sighed. “I love you,” she whispered. “So much.”

Being a gentleman was getting far more difficult with every second that passed. Pushing the bench away from the piano, it was his intent to set her down but when he rose and she simply wrapped her legs around his waist, things didn't go precisely as planned. Unwilling to break the kiss, Sawyer carried her down the hallway to his bedroom and set her down on the bed.

Her fingers found the hem of her shirt and she lifted it up and over her head in one fluid motion. “I can't believe we're doing this,” she gasped.

Her words were like a slap in the face or a wakeup call involving ice cold water. What the hell was he doing? Less than an hour ago he was thinking that this was one thing he didn't want to change about her and now he was about to take advantage of the heated moment. He looked down at her, so incredible...so perfect...and he took a deep breath in, steeled his resolve and stopped.

“We're not,” he said, resigned. Somewhere, deep inside, his body cursed his new-found conscience. This side of things was a lot simpler when he didn't care.

Hurt flashed across her face, followed by confusion. She brought her arms up to cover the part of herself she'd exposed and looked away. “I'm such an idiot,” she mumbled.

“No,” Sawyer said. “You are perfect.”

Her body trembled underneath his and he could see her bottom lip shaking.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Look at me. Please.”

She immediately turned her head toward him, giving him a glimpse of her glassy eyes. He brushed her red hair back and tucked it behind her ear. “You deserve so much more than this,” he said. “Time will pass and I'm still going to be so in love with you, Lex. But give it time. Let me prove it to you first, so there is no doubt in your mind that I'm the one you want to do this with.”

“You are,” she said. “I'm sure.”

“Then humor me,” he coaxed. “Wait.”

“I've never-”

Sawyer smiled. “I know.”

“I wanted to know what it was like.”

“I want you to find out too. Just not here. Not today. It should be something special.”

“It would be,” she said. “With you.”

“Maybe so,” Sawyer replied “but you deserve more than just this,” he motioned to his bedroom.

Alexa laughed. “You say that like I should lose it in some grand way, like on a trip to Paris, the land of lovers.”

“Maybe you should,” Sawyer said. “But I'm not sure even Paris is good enough for you.”

Before she could answer, there was a loud crash from the entrance that had him on his feet and down the hall, defenses tweaked.

He found Lane, in his freshly pressed Armani suit with his back to the wall sunk down to the floor, knees nearly to his chest. Initially, Sawyer was alarmed but as he got closer he saw a distant, dreamy smile on Lane's lips.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Lane stared blankly at the floor. “I lost my key,” he proclaimed. His words were slurred.

“You got through the front door, didn't you? You didn't lose your keys. You're liquored, yeah?”

Lane nodded.

Sawyer crouched so he was face to face with his friend. He put a hand on Lane's shoulder. “You alright?”

Lane grinned sheepishly. “Yep. It was amazing. He's incredible.”

“Good,” Sawyer said. “Glad to hear it.”

“He doesn't even know who I am,” Lane said too loudly. “That's the best part. He's in his mid-twenties. Doesn't even listen to Bach's Revenge.”

Sawyer could sincerely appreciate the novelty Lane spoke of. “That's good. You wanna try to stand up?”

“Anything I can do to help?” Alexa's voice cut in.

Lane's eyes widened. “Alexa. Lexi, Lexa, Lex.”

She crouched beside Sawyer. “Hi Lane, I like your suit.”

Lane nodded and hiccupped. “I know it's awesome,” he said resting a hand on Alexa's bent knee. “How are you?”

“I'm great, Lane.”

“Me too!” Lane said.

“You won't be in a few hours,” Sawyer said. He wrapped his arm around Lane's back, getting a firm grip from underneath his armpits. “C'mon big boy,” he urged. “Help me out here. You weigh a fucking ton.”

“It's 'cause of yoga,” Lane stated proudly.

“Mmm,” Sawyer nodded and rose to his feet, using all the strength he possessed to pull a very wobbly Lane up with him. “Back up a little sugar,” he said to Alexa. “If he falls he'll crush you like a bug.”

Lane gaped. “I would not.”

“Not on purpose,” Sawyer clarified. “But you outweigh my girlfriend by like a hundred pounds at least, yeah?”

Lane's eyes narrowed on Lex and Sawyer was sure Lane must be seeing at least two or three of her the way they were crossing. “Maybe,” he decided.

Sawyer managed to get Lane's arm around his shoulder and it allowed him to manage his weight better. He ushered him down the hall, to Lane's minimalist room. He was able to wrestle Lane to the bed where he sat upright and bobbed from side to side.

Alexa was at his feet, removing his polished dress shoes. Sawyer watched Lane's face tighten. “You know, Lexa. You're pretty. Beautiful even. I see why he loves you.”

“Stop flirting with my girl,” Sawyer warned.

Lane shrugged and hiccupped, falling over on his bed. “You guys are cute together. It's kind of disgusting.”

Sawyer stood and settled Lane's blankets on top of him. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Lane said. “I love you guys.”

Sawyer laughed quietly and turned to Lex who was positively beaming.

As they headed back to Sawyer's bedroom, the awkwardness that lingered before was gone, replaced by Lane's drunken antics. “He likes me,” Alexa spoke with confidence. “They say the truth comes out when you're drunk.”

Sawyer nodded. “'Course he likes you, darlin.' He'd be crazy not to.”

Managing Lane was like a serious work out at the gym and Sawyer was exhausted. He took off his shirt and quickly changed into pajama pants trying to ignore the white hot feeling of Alexa's eyes on his body. “You want a pair of pajamas?” he asked her.

She shook her head no and boldly stripped into her underclothes. “I'm wearing this.”

Sawyer crawled into bed, holding the cover to the side for Alexa to climb in. “You know just because I won't—you know-- doesn't mean I'm promising endless discipline to my behavior.”

Alexa leaned across him, giving him a very up close and personal view as she reached for the lamp. Before turning it off, she gave him a wicked smile. “That's kind of the point,” she said.

He grabbed her and as her cool skin brushed his, he was certain he could spend every night for the rest of his life with her beside him.