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“Don’t be so damn stubborn. Come on, we’re getting you into bed.” God knows how long he’s been lying on the tiledfloor.
“No,” he groans but I can’t just leave himhere.
When I stand up, I notice the state of the toilet and decide for myself what’s wrong with him. I quickly flush it before attempting to pull him up from thefloor.
He refuses to help and lies there like a dead weight for ages. He must realise that I’m being serious about getting him off the cold floor because eventually he helps by pushing himselfup.
I help him towards his bed the best I can. He’s way too heavy for me to take the weight; if he didn’t put some effort in then he wouldn’t be goinganywhere.
He drops down on to the bed and lies back, throwing his arms over his eyes and letting out a hugebreath.
“Can I get you anything?” I askquietly.
“No, just leave.” No sooner have the words left his mouth does he start retching. I run out to where I dropped my stuff and grab my cleaning supply bucket. I get back just in time. He snatches it from me before sticking his head init.
I stand there for a few seconds, unsure of what to do, until I decide to sit down next to him. I place my hand on his back and slowly rub up and down, admiring his artwork. What he hides underneath his suit is all badboy.
“That’s why I was in the bathroom,” he complains when he’sfinished.
“Just lie back. I’ll sort thisout.”
Thankfully he does as he’s told, and by the time I come back with a clean bucket he’s fast asleep. He’s lying like he was earlier, on his back with his arm thrown over. I run my eyes down his chest and abs before taking in his cotton pyjama trousers that are hanging low and giving me a great shot of his Vlines.
I shake my head and give myself a good talking to. He’s sick, and here I am checking out hisbody!
I put the bowl on the floor next to him before grabbing him a glass of water and placing it on his bed side table for when he wakes up. I then set about cleaning the bathroom. I’ve no idea if it’s a bug or something he ate, but I get the bleach out just incase.
He’s still out cold when I’m finished, so I pull his bedroom door to and make myself busy in the livingarea.
It’s almost an hour later when I hear his phoneringing.
I grab it from the coffee table and answer it before really thinking. I just wanted to stop it ringing in case it wokehim.
“H…hello. Lucas?” a soft female voiceasks.
“Uh…no...it’s his…cleaner.”
“Oh um…Is hethere?”
“He is, but he’s inbed.”
“That’s what I feared. Both him and my husband had the seafood platter last night and Joe’s been up all night. I just thought I’d check onLucas.”
“It looks like he’s been up all night,too.”
We exchange a few more words before she says her goodbye and I hangup.
When I glance at the clock and see the time, I realise Lucas probably has meetings and stuff planned that someone is going to have to do somethingabout.
I pick his phone back up and call one person I really don’t want to speakto.
“Good morning, Lucas,” she sings when she picksup.
“Catherine, it’sLilly.”
“Who?”
“Lucas’ cleaner,” I answer, hating the way it sounds. It doesn’t feel like the right description, although it’s thetruth.
