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getting a bit loud and pissed off with a man who was technically my employer. But fuck it. He was a rude bastard.
    “Oh.” He looked abashed, which made me feel a little better. I saw him swallow before he muttered, “Thank you.”
    “See! And it didn’t hurt one bit,” I crowed. I crossed my arms and scowled down at him. “Now, do you have anyone you can ring to come and look after you?”
    “No.”
    “A girlfriend? A best friend? A mother?”
    “No. No one. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” His voice had a definite croak to it.
    “Ha!” I laughed at his blatant lie. “Have you even had breakfast?”
    He shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”
    I strode over and pulled the blanket back over his shoulder again. The sight of his naked flesh was turning me on and usually I would’ve left it so I could have a good perv, but the guy was sick. He needed to keep warm. “Too bad. You’re going to have to eat or else you can’t get better.”
    I spun and went to leave when he called me back.
    “Jake?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Are you staying?”
    “Of course.”
    “Good. Let the dog out, then.”
    I sighed in exasperation and crossed my arms across my chest so I could glare in his direction. “Manners.”
    “What?” He looked confused.
    “Manners, dude! Remember? Please and thank you?”
    “Huh?”
    I rolled my eyes. “You. When you’re talking to people you need to say ‘please.’ So how about you ask me to let your dog out again, and this time put a please on the end and I’ll think about acting on it.”
    “Oh.” Had no one ever told this guy these basic things? Had no one ever stood up to him? Patrick wiped at his nose with his finger and said, “Can you let the dog out? Please?”
    I smiled. “Sure. What’s his name?”
    “Gregor.”
    “Excellent. I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t go anywhere.”
     
     
    L OOKING AFTER a sick person was nothing new to me. Hell, I’d looked after my mother through hundreds of hangovers, and that was just the beginning. My sisters would often look to me when they got colds and flu when they were growing up. I was their big brother. I was the responsible one.
    I let a grateful Gregor out the back door and went searching through Patrick’s cupboards. His kitchen was empty of any sort of medication apart from painkillers, Band-Aids, and first aid cream, so I stomped into the bedroom and through to the en suite to search. Patrick hadn’t moved.
    “What are you looking for?” he croaked from the blankets.
    “Cold and flu tablets. Antihistamines. Throat lozenges. Anything to help you. Have you taken anything for your flu?”
    “No.”
    “Huh. I didn’t think so. Damn. I’ll have to dash down to the chemist and buy you some. Are you allergic to anything?”
    “No.”
    “Good. I’ll go in a minute. Breakfast first.”
    I made him two eggs on toast and cut the bread into bite-size pieces. He had a plate guard thing that stopped his food from being pushed over the edge, so I clipped one on and found a tray before taking it to him.
    “Come on, dude. Sit up. I have your breakfast here.”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    “What a pity. You’ll just have to force it down.” I’ll let you in on a little secret—I don’t do sympathy much. Whatever. Call the Sympathy Police or something.
    “I don’t want it.”
    I stared down at him, not that he knew. “You have two choices. Either you can sit up and eat under your own steam, or I’ll sit here and shovel it in for you. And believe me, every time you scream it’ll give me a great reason to shove a mouthful in.”
    I was completely bullshitting him, but he didn’t know. He groaned and pushed himself to a sitting position. Once he was upright, I snagged a pillow and laid it across his lap before placing the tray on top. He searched across the tray with his hand, so I helped him out. “Here’s your fork. On your plate are two eggs on a piece of toast. I cut it up for you into little bites so you just need to