When Dean awoke, the sun was already streaming in the window. Had Marco not awakened him in the middle of the night for another session? He didn’t remember it happening. That was unusual. He looked at the clock. Eight-thirty! And where was Marco? The bed next to him was empty.
“Good morning, lover boy!” said a beaming, bare chested Marco as he walked into the bedroom carrying a tray of freshly baked goods from the Portuguese bakery and two cups of coffee. “Being a weekend, I thought the bakery would be nearly sold out by the time you got up so I hopped on a bike and went down there as soon as I got up.”
“And when was that?’ asked Dean, still a bit groggy. “I didn’t hear you get out of bed. And you didn’t wake me up in the middle of the night like you always do.”
“You had a long day yest
