Oh, The Places You'll Go


The Best Part of Wakin' Up

It was the smell that woke him. That sharp, hot, soothing aroma wafting through the air, invading his dreams. He blinked himself awake, stretching and yawning in twisted sheets. Head blurry he sat up, sniffing the air. That smell. The clanking. Someone was in his kitchen. He heard a familiar, tuneless whistle and last night rushed back. Drunk. Sloppy kisses. Fumbling. Desperate motion. Unbearable pleasure.

He had lain awake for hours, scared this was all there would be. That he would wake alone, again.

But the sun shone, the bed was warm, and in the kitchen Casey was making coffee.

Lo Completa

Casey sighed. Something was missing from this picture. A vital piece of the jigsaw. But what? The sky was cloudless, the terrazzo overlooked beautiful Florentine countryside, he had a plate of sfogliadelle and the perfect espresso.

Hanging with the Lampre team had been a blast - the Giro d'Italia coverage would rock. And it had been kind of Commesso to offer his villa for a few days vacation. He should be happy - at least content. Why wasn't he?

His cell rang. Danny. And as Dan launched into news of home, Casey sipped his espresso, finally relaxed. He'd found his missing piece.

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