Troubled, Amelia curled her attractive red lips. She stared at him for a long while before asking, "If your friends are ill, can you bear not to check them up?" Patrick paused for a moment and retorted, "How can the relation between 'man and man' and 'man and woman' be the same?"

Amelia said inwardly, "It's more likely that something is going on between man and man these days!"

Blinking her eyes, she suggested Patrick see it himself. "If you are worried, come with me. Anyway, you know where Milton lives." Patrick said stiffly, "Amelia, are you sure you're not asking for a free driver?"

Amelia was annoyed. "How about you offer me an excellent approach that you are comfortable with while I can go visit Milton?" Patrick blurted out, "Don't go then."

Amelia was at a loss for words. How could he be so unreasonable? She had suggested he go with her if he couldn't trust her.

Amelia turned and screwed the lid of the bowl with force. Seeing that, Patrick couldn't help but ask, "Didn't you say that we are not going to the

mountain? Why are you still doing that?" "Milton is sick. I should bring him something when visiting him... Hey! Patrick, what are you doing!"

Before Amelia could finish her words, Patrick lifted the bowl of fried shrimps too high for her to reach. Amelia was about to cry. "Give the fried shrimps back to me!"

Patrick replied, unmoved, "Do you think a patient could eat such greasy food?"

Amelia stopped fighting for the shrimps. "Right... I'll leave them to you then."

After that, she turned to pack other food, only to replace another bowl gone from her hand!

She shot an angry look at Patrick's good-looking face. "What's wrong this time?"

Patrick looked down at her and said evenly, "Egg is not suitable forthose in fever. You don't know that?"

Amelia took out her phone to google whether Patrick was fooling her.

And she did replace an article claiming that people who had a fever should eat fewer eggs. Whether it was true aside, at least Patrick had a good reason this time.

"Well, I'll bring him some fruit, okay? I heard that apples are the most suitable for those in fever to eat."

Patrick wished he could throw the basket of fruits on the kitchen counter, but it was apparently too late. He muttered in a low voice, "You do him a favor with my fruit..."

Although his voice was so low that it sounded like he was complaining to himself, Amelia still heard him.

A trace of bitterness flashed across her face while she was having her back to him. It turned out that they were not close enough to share everything they had. He haggled over even a fruit basket. Seeing Amelia drawing her hand from the basket, Patrick was about to enjoy the complacency when she said, "Then I'll drive to the supermarket and buy some myself."

After a pause, she seemed to realize something and looked back at him. "You're not going to say it's your car, are you? Okay. I'll take a taxi then."

After that, Amelia found Patrick's eyes had grown very scary!

"Amelia Ramsay!" All of a sudden, he shouted her name loudly with rage as if he was about to tear her apart.

Amelia narrowed her pretty eyes, a bit overwhelmed by his shouting. "What's the matter?"

She secretly put distance between them, which caused Patrick's eyes to get even darker.

Emotion had the upper hand of him. Patrick wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in front of him. He lowered himself and caught her lips that were not wearing lipstick and looked paler than ordinary people. Following that, his tongue pried open her teeth and wrapped around her pink one...

There was no way for Amelia to run away. She could only push herself back against the kitchen table to support herself in case her weak legs sent her to the ground.

It took him such a long time before he let go of her. With a gloomy face, he turned around and left before saying, "I'll wait for you in the car."

She stared at his back with a bewildered look, wondering what he meant by that.

After getting changed, Amelia took the key and locked the house before heading to Patrick's splendid Lamborghini. She knocked on his window, indicating him to unlock the car door.

He unlocked the door and glanced at her hand when she opened the door. "Where is your thing?"

"What thing?" Amelia was confused.

Something flicked in Patrick's eyes. But he said, "Nothing."

After getting into the car, Amelia fastened her seat belt and asked, "Where are we going? Are we going to your parents'? But it's a little too early to visit them, isn't it?"

"Who told you that I'm taking you home?" Patrick asked coldly.

Amelia turned to him to ask, "But you..."

Like an adult disciplining a kid, Patrick ordered, "Don't move. Sit tight!"

"Oh..." Amelia looked away sullenly. Patrick was so grumpy when he was only in his thirties. What should she do when he was old?

Should she buy him some medicine helping to calm him down? It was kind of like taking precautions in advance.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the Cook family's mansion.

"Get off the car." Patrick looked as if she had owed him hundreds of millions.

"Oh..." Amelia answered briskly. She didn't expect Patrick to bring her here.

Then she said with a little chagrin, "Oh, no! I should have brought the food I made here!"

It was impolite to visit someone with nothing.

While she couldn't see him, Patrick turned up the corner of his mouth, glad that he hadn't reminded Amelia.

They rang the door.

With a crack, the door was opened, revealing the gentle but listless face of Milton.

He should have just taken a shower. His fair skin not covered by the bathrobe was still wet. As usual, he didn't like to wear slippers in the room. In Milton's own words, he was an unrestrained boy. Before Milton could be cheered by the sight of Amelia, he was disgusted by Patrick's expressionless face.

Since Patrick was standing behind her, Amelia missed the fierce glares between Patrick and Milton. She reached out to

touch Milton's forehead and found it so hot. "Milton, why did you have a bath when having a fever? Do you have a death wish?"

There was a flash of guilt in Milton's eyes. He had taken a bath because he wanted to get rid of the smell of alcohol and Maryanne from last night.

Amelia then gently pushed him away and walked to the shoe closet to pick out a pair of comfortable cotton slippers for him. She squatted at his feet and urged, "Put them on now!"

Patrick and Milton simultaneously turned their gazes from each other to her, their moods opposite.

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