They made love three more times that first night, to the point that Cress winced a little the last time.

Graham saw her expression and began to pull out immediately, but Cress pulled him back. "No, please," she whimpered. "I want to, I do."

"You must be so sore," he responded.

"Just a little," she insisted. "Please."

So they came together again, just as the birds began to sing, and finally dropped off into a blissful, deep sleep that lasted well into the morning.

Cressida woke up, her hair in a mess from having fallen out of the chignon during the night's activities. She sat up, holding the duvet to her front, to see Graham at the piano, freshly showered and dressed, looking distractingly handsome. Cressida poked at her hair, hoping it didn't look as bad as it felt.

He smiled at her. "Oh, that's so unfair," he said. "I have hours and hours to do, and you sit in my bed looking like that."

"I'm sure I look terrible," she responded. She knew her makeup had run, and her lips felt swollen and bruised from how hard Graham had kissed her, over and over. And she knew she had myriad bite and suck marks all over her front.

"You look beautiful," he contradicted gently. "I left a tea bag out for you, and there's a surprise in the bathroom when you're ready to clean up, behind the shower curtain."

Cressida found his dress shirt where it was tangled up in the duvet, and pulled it on before she got out of bed. Curiously, she wandered to the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain.

"A bath tub!" she cried out. "You have a bathtub? You lucky duck. I can't even remember the last time I took a bath."

"I know, you told me the other day," he called back from the piano. "It's not very big, but I think it will do quite nicely for you, tiny Cressida."

Cressida closed the door and began running the water, wishing she had some bubble bath.

Still.

Sinking into the warm water was a little bit of heaven. She lay back, wetting her hair, just floating on top of the water.

Ah.

She could hear Graham at the piano through the door. He was doing his crazy warm ups.

She finally sat up and scrubbed off her make up before starting on her hair, which was quite long and required a lot of washing. Then she washed the rest of herself, taking special care with her tender nether regions.

She heard a knock on the door.

"Come in."

She drew her knees up, feeling unaccountably shy.

Graham saw this and thought it no end of cute. He sat on the edge of the tub. "You enjoying your bath?"

Cressida nodded, her chin dipping into the water. "It feels marvelous. I just wish I had some bath oils or a bath bomb or something."

He stirred the water a little, smiling at her. "I'll get you something for next time, okay?"

Cressida nodded again, filled with glory at his casual use of the words "next time."

"You about ready to get out?"

"Yes, but I'm all clean now, I don't want to put my dress back on."

"I can find you something."

He brought her a T-shirt with a drawing of Beethoven on it, passing it through the door without coming back in. She pulled it on. It came to her knees, making her laugh. She brushed her hair with his brush and exited the bathroom.

Graham was already working on something, hunched over the keyboard, brows knotted with concentration.

Cressida made herself some tea and went to sit in the windowsill so her hair could dry in the sun.

During a pause in his work, he looked up at her, smiling at how she looked with the sun shining on her. "Don't you want the hair dryer?"

She shook her head. "The dryer's so bad for my hair, and it gives me split ends and stuff. I like to let it dry naturally whenever I can."

Graham nodded. "That's why your hair's so beautiful." He turned back to his work, while she sat in the windowsill and listened, admiring his beautiful forearms, how the tendons popped when he played a particularly intricate part.

Cressida remained where she was until her hair was pretty dry, watching Graham practice. How could he think it was boring?

She finally rose, rinsed out her mug, and went to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders and bent down to talk into his ear, but he took his fingers off the keys.

"No no, don't stop," she protested, but he turned and pulled her into his lap.

"What do you want, hm?" he asked, grinning, giving her a peck near her ear.

"I just wanted to tell you I was going back upstairs."

"Okay. Come back later, I'll give you a piano lesson, how's that sound?"

"Sounds good. I'll put something in the oven for us to eat, then."

"Perfect." He lifted her from his lap and patted her bottom goodbye.

He was back to his work before she got to the door.

She ran into Mikey on the landing, and if she thought anything of the fact that Cressida was clad only in a T-shirt and holding the clothes she'd worn yesterday, she didn't say a word about it. "Good morning, dear."

"Good morning, Mikey."

"Seems like today isn't going to be as hot as the last few days have been—it really is fall, isn't it?"
"Yes, the weather's lovely today."

"Well, see you later, dear."

Cressida put her dirty clothes in the hamper and texted Andrea.

"You have time? Can I come over?"

Andrea responded almost immediately.

"Yes, please, my roommates are driving me batshit!"

"Be there in half an hour."

It felt good to Cressida to be out walking the brisk streets, even after her long walk the night before. It was as though the world had become a different place because of her night with Graham. She was glad to be away from him, because it gave her something to look forward to. Halloween decorations were starting to come out, and the leaves were turning.

She rang the bell, waited for Andrea to buzz her in, and ran up the four flights of stairs to her friend's apartment.

"Thank Christ you're here," Andrea said when she opened the door. "Come on, let's go straight to my room." They passed Andrea's roommates, Troy and William, who were shouting at the TV while they played video games.

"They've been at it since last night, if you can believe it," Andrea said with a groan once her door was closed.

"So?" she continued. "What's up? Something new with the piano player?"

"Actually, yes," Cressida informed her, getting a Mountain Dew from Andrea's mini-fridge and cracking it open as she sat on the bed.

"Oh my god! Tell me everything, please!"

After she'd filled her in with an abbreviated version of Graham's life story, Andrea sat back, nonplussed. "Wow, that's like a movie," she said finally. "What a horrible life he's had."

"I know, and how could that bitch Katherine just leave him twisting in the wind like that? And to cheat on him, too!" Cressida was getting tearful just thinking about it.

"Well, now he has you, doesn't he?" Andrea asked rhetorically. "I mean, he will if he ever gets his head out of his ass and realizes it."

Cressida smiled enigmatically.

"Oh my god, he did! He got his head out of his ass?" Andrea was falling all over the bed in her excitement, kicking the mattress with her feet.

"He got his head out of his ass," Cressida agreed, nodding and smiling. She took a drink and stifled a belch, enjoying her friend's happiness.

"What was it like? Was it great? Did you come?"

"The question no guy ever gets asked after sex," Cressida answered drily. "Anyway, to answer your questions, it was amazing, yes, and yes. Many times."

Andrea laughed. "I love it! I'm so happy for you. Now I have to meet him, don't I?"

"That would be great, but he's so busy, I mean he hardly has time to see me, you know?"

"Because of the competition."

"Right. After December he'll have way more time. I hope."

"And you want him to win."

"Of course!"

"So that he can go off to England for a year."

"Yes—wait, what?" Cressida sat up to stare at her friend. She swallowed. "I hadn't thought of that until just this minute. Thanks ever so much for putting it in my head."

Andrea put a comforting hand on Cressida's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes limpid with sympathy.

"Oh god, Andrea, what am I going to do? I'm in love with him, I don't want him to go to England for an entire year!"

"You're in love with him."

It wasn't a question, but Cressida answered her anyway. "Yes. And he said he loved me too."

"He did? Wow."

"What do I do? I want him to win, of course I want him to win, but I don't want to leave me, I just got him to pull his head out of his ass," Cressida said, half laughing, half crying.

"I don't know, hon," Andrea responded, shaking her head. "I just don't know."