Dr. Perfect: An MM Gay Romance

by Peter Styles

  “Thanks,” Mark said with a big grin.

  Sally came around the side of the counter with the platter and set it on one of the tables. “Is this spot okay?”

  “Perfect.” Mark headed over to the table and took a seat.

  I followed and sat down in the chair opposite him while Sally went back behind the counter and came back with two coffees.

  Before Mark could get the jump on me, I snatched the lone strawberry from the top of the petit four pyramids and popped it into my mouth. “Mmmm…” I ignored Mark’s glare and chose a pink square of cake to start with. It was fresh and moist and bursting with strawberry flavor.

  “So, what do you think?” Mark asked around a mouthful of lemon cake.

  I grinned. “I think you have lemon cream on your lip.”

  “Here?” He darted his tongue out and made a big show of trying to locate the cream, and I tried not to notice how sexy he looked licking his lips.

  I shook my head and pointed toward the opposite side of his mouth. “Over there.”

  He licked the center of his lips, and all I could think was how good that tongue would feel in other places. “Did I get it?”

  “No, over more.” My voice was rough and needy, betraying the fact that he was turning me on right there in the pastry shop.

  His eyes glittered with mischief as he licked the same spot he’d tried the first time.

  I laughed. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

  “What?” He feigned innocence so well it was almost believable, but that look in his eyes said he knew exactly what he was doing.

  “Stop it, Mark.” I glanced around the shop and noticed we were alone except for Joe and Sally, and a woman I hadn’t noticed before. She was busy clicking away on her cell phone at a table tucked into the corner. Judging from her self-satisfied grin and flying thumbs, had discovered the secrets of the universe and was busy sharing them with everyone on social media.

  “Stop what?” Mark asked. “Why would I be doing it on purpose? I really can’t find it.” He sent the tip of his tongue out to scout the area again. “Why don’t you come over here and give me some real help? You don’t want me going around looking like a messy toddler, do you?”

  “Real help?” I swallowed, thinking maybe I knew exactly where he was going with this. But that was silly. This was Mark, who was so deep in the closet he should have smelled like mothballs. Could he possibly be suggesting I touch him in public?

  “Yeah.” His voice was a purr, low and seductive. “Lean over here and lick it off for me. It’s what any Good Samaritan would do.”

  I smirked, projecting a confidence that belied the nervous quiver in my belly. “Maybe I’m not a Good Samaritan.”

  Mark’s eyes went a shade darker. “Oh, I think you’re a very Good Samaritan. Come over here and show me how good you can be. I won’t bite.” The corner of his mouth curled up. “Not hard, anyway.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But we’re in public, so you’d better behave.” I leaned across the table, my ass coming completely out of my seat, and Mark met me halfway.

  When we were face-to-face in the center of the table, Mark groaned low in his throat. “In all of my dreams, I never imagined Jason Whitham would be licking cream off of my lips.”

  “God, Mark. You’re killing me.” I brought my mouth to his, my body quaking with uncontrollable lust, and dragged my tongue across the sticky goodness. “Mmmm… sweet.”

  “Very sweet.” Mark wound a hand in the collar of my T-shirt and yanked, imprisoning me with my mouth pressed against his. His tongue parted my lips insistently, and he licked inside.

  I was dimly aware of my chair legs scraping the floor and a startled gasp coming from the direction of the woman with the cell phone. “Get a room, Dr. Johnson,” Joe called from behind the counter. “I don’t want to have to call 911 when one of our customers keels over with a heart attack. Are y’all running low on patients over at Vanderbilt? They got you doctors out trying to drum up business?”

  Mark released me with a laugh, and I flopped back into my chair, nearly missing it because it had slid back as I’d squirmed against Mark’s hold. At that point, I was breathless with desire, and with shock at the spectacle we’d just made of ourselves.

  I’d never kissed a man in public. Never even held hands. I’d never done anything at all in public that could be construed as indecent, but I had to admit that kiss was a damn fine initiation to the PDA club.

  Mark had a huge grin on his face when he addressed the pudgy baker behind the counter. “We have plenty of patients already, Joe. This was purely personal.”

  Joe ran a hand over his balding head and said, “Well, I guess I’m not very observant. You’ve been coming in here on the regular for at least two years, and I didn’t even realize you were gay.”

  I smiled up at him. “Don’t feel bad, Joe. I work with him almost daily, and even I didn’t know.”

  Joe chuckled. “Well, it sure looks like you’ve got the idea now, anyway.”

  That brought a blush to my cheeks, but what Sally said made me want to crawl under the table.

  “Doctors in love,” she said dreamily. “Oh, it’s just so romantic. Just like on Grey’s Anatomy, right Daddy? Maybe we could get one of those reality shows for them.”

  Mark held up a hand and laughed. “Please. No reality shows.”

  The girl’s eyebrows shot up. “You wouldn’t want to be on TV? I heard all you have to do is send an email to the networks and a little pitch for the show. Then next thing you know, they’ll be down here making you famous. Hell, you could even come in here and let them film you eating your favorite pastries.”

  Mark looked alarmed. “Sally, do not email any networks on our behalf. We’re not interested in becoming TV stars.”

  “Why not?” she asked. “They’ve made shows about a lot worse. Towing cars and pawn shops? That crap is boring as hell. I’ll bet a ton of people would love to watch Doctors in Love.” She grinned proudly. “That’s what we’ll call it when we pitch it.”

  “Sally…” Joe said in a stern voice.

  “Okay, Daddy. Fine. I was just trying to make ’em famous.”

  “Infamous is more like it.” The woman with the cell phone walked past us, glaring. “Is this what the world has come to? Homosexual doctors? It makes me afraid to go to the hospital.” She pushed the glass door open and left the shop.

  Sally was the first to speak. “What did she mean by that? Why would she be afraid to go to the hospital?”

  “Don’t listen to talk like that,” Joe said. “She’s not really scared; she’s just mean.”

  13

  Mark

  Joe came around the counter and approached our table, his ample belly jiggling beneath the ever-present apron he wore. I thought, not for the first time, that Joe was the perfect face for Music City Pastry. He was a jolly, robust man, and he certainly looked like he indulged in his own creations.

  “Listen, guys.” Joe leaned down slightly and spoke in a soft voice. “That woman didn’t sound too friendly, so I’d watch your backs. Could you possibly get into trouble for—”

  “Making out in public?” Jason supplied with a smirk.

  Joe nodded, his face turning red.

  “Maybe,” I said. “I’m not really sure what the rules are for fraternization. At the very least, I think our supervising physician would strongly discourage it.”

  Jason laughed. “Yeah, Rosenfeld would definitely not be thrilled to learn that two of his residents are fooling around.”

  “Could you get fired?” Joe asked, his voice edged with concern.

  I shrugged. “I really have no idea. It’s just that Jason and I work as sort of a team. Rosenfeld might see it as a problem.”

  “But how would he find out?” Jason asked. “Do you think that lady would report us to the hospital?”

  Joe rubbed his balding head. “I don’t see how since she doesn’t know what hospital you work for. But if you want to keep your relat
ionship a secret, you need to be careful is all I’m saying. As big as this city is, sometimes it really feels more like a small town. Seems like we ought to be past all the homophobic bullshit, you know? Gay marriage is legal now.”

  Jason frowned. “Homophobia isn’t going anywhere, Joe. There will always be people who have a problem with it no matter how many laws they pass in our favor. It’s just the way things are.”

  “Well, it’s a bad way for things to be,” Joe said, rubbing his belly with thick, stubby fingers. “If you don’t mind people knowing, I say throw caution to the wind, but if you could lose your job, that’s another matter.”

  I popped the last bite of my lemon petit four into my mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I’m sick of living in the dark, but I don’t know how to change that without risking too much.”

  Joe rapped on the table with his meaty knuckles. “Well, you know I’ve got your back. I’d hate to see anything bad happen to you boys.”

  “It’s a little late for that,” Jason muttered too low for Joe to hear.

  I knew he was thinking about the Terwilliger case. I’d been trying to forget about it because I still wasn’t quite sure what I believed. It was better to pretend the problem didn’t exist, at least until I had to go back to work tomorrow. Better to imagine that Jason was innocent. Better to enjoy his company and his body until reality came calling.

  Jason’s professional career was hanging in the balance, and quite possibly his freedom. What if he was found guilty of criminal negligence? What if he got arrested? I didn’t even want to think about it, especially because, to some extent, I had a part to play in the whole drama.

  Yes, it was better to pretend we were just two men enjoying the day in the greatest city in the world. I could do that. And surely it would help Jason, too. I didn’t ever want to worry about his well-being like I had the day before, and I didn’t ever want to find him drunk and wallowing in his misery again.

  I had admired Jason Whitham ever since I’d met him. He had an unwavering conviction to doing what was right, and an uncanny ability to always see the good in people. He was a gentle soul.

  But he was also uptight and could get a little preachy at times. It all stemmed from his need to do the right thing and the expectation that others should as well. And from the fact that he had been forced to beg and scrape when so many others around him—myself included—seemed to have opportunities handed to them.

  On some level, I understood Jason’s struggle. I couldn’t help but notice the way Rosenfeld favored me over Jason, and it wasn’t just because I’d been there longer. It also wasn’t because I was smarter or worked harder than Jason. It was because Dr. Rosenfeld knew my father. Arthur Johnson was a respected and influential man, and I was his sole heir. Translation: a lot of people kissed my ass.

  Rosenfeld’s favoritism was obvious, and it rankled when he blatantly dismissed Jason and fawned all over me. It was unfair, but I did very little to change it. I kept my mouth shut like I always did when other people’s bad behavior benefited me. It was just human nature, right? It didn’t make me a bad person.

  Still, I hated to see Jason busting his haunches trying to make a name for himself while I got preferential treatment most of the time. I knew there was a place for me at Vanderbilt once my residency was over; Dr. Rosenfeld had already made that clear in myriad ways. But Jason’s fate was less certain. Add to that the stain of a malpractice lawsuit and a formal inquest into Jason’s professional behavior, and… Well, let’s just say it was the kind of the stain that didn’t come out with bleach.

  Even if Jason was found innocent of wrongdoing—and it wasn’t looking good so far—just having been involved in such a debacle could have a lasting effect on his career. Rosenfeld might not be so keen on offering him a position at Vanderbilt after all of this, especially if Jason didn’t handle himself professionally during the inquest.

  To say I was worried about him would have been an understatement, and yet it seemed there was nothing I could do to help. The only thing I could do was offer support and ask around. I was no detective, but I owed Jason a valiant effort at finding the truth.

  But what if the truth wasn’t in his favor? That was the real question that had me hung up.

  Could Jason possibly have gone back on an order and endangered a patient? Was his ego big enough for that? I’d known doctors who weren’t above that type of behavior. Scruples were in short supply in the medical field, and when it came down to it, it was every man for himself.

  I spent the rest of our visit to Music City Pastry lost in my dark thoughts. Jason was sullen as he sat across from me and picked at the sweets in front of us, so I figured his thoughts weren’t much different from my own. What had started out as a fun outing had turned into the most depressing date ever.

  And yes, I thought of it as a date. I hadn’t called it that to Jason or formally asked him out, but I hoped he considered it a date, as well. He’d told me I had to earn his virginity, and I was taking the quest very seriously. I just wasn’t sure how I was supposed to do it.

  When we’d paid and packed up our to-go bags, we walked silently back to the car. I couldn’t help wishing I had thrown caution to the wind and asked Jason out a long time ago. I hated that the joy of discovering each other had been tainted by drama and anxiety.

  Jason’s words came back to me. The ones he’d said while we lay sated on my bed. Think of the time we wasted not doing this. How right he had been. It hurt to remember how hard I had tried to deny my desire for him, and how I’d forced myself to sit back and watch as other men let him know how sexy he was and tried to claim him when that’s all I wanted to do myself.

  And now that I had everything I’d longed for within my grasp, what would I do? Did I have any more courage than I’d had yesterday? Would I be content to watch as Jason eventually fell in love with someone else? Was my family’s approval really worth losing a shot at the only man I’d ever truly felt something for? Most importantly, what did it say about me that I didn’t know the answer to those questions?

  Fuck me. I would rather deny my own happiness than risk the disapproval of others. How had I never realized what a coward I was?

  “Pull over, Mark.” Jason grabbed onto my arm from the passenger seat.

  I came back to the present and noticed we were driving down Church Street, several miles from the bakery. Apparently, I’d been driving on autopilot as I pondered the meaning of my miserable existence.

  “I’m serious, Mark. You need to pull over.” Jason groaned, and when I looked over at him, his face was so pale it was nearly white.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, slowing down and looking for a place to stop.

  “I can’t breathe,” Jason said. He pulled at the collar of his shirt. It wasn’t the least bit tight, but he was grabbing at it like it was a hungry anaconda about to squeeze the life out of him.

  I pulled into the parking lot of an insurance company, and Mark nearly fell to the pavement in his haste to get out of the car. I put the Porsche in park, jumped out, and ran around to his side. He was squatting down, using the back wheel as support, and gasping for breath.

  I knelt down beside him. “What is it, J? Do I need to call 911?”

  He nodded, then shook his head, tears coursing from his eyes. “What if I go to prison, Mark? How did this happen to me? And to Mr. Terwilliger?”

  I cupped his face in my hands and did my best to wipe the tears from his cheeks with my thumbs. “I don’t know, J. I don’t understand it, either.”

  He sniffed and closed his eyes, then let out a tortured moan. “One minute, he was puking from kidney stones, and I was just a doctor doing my job. I was just trying to fix him. I was trying to—” His next words were lost in a torrent of sniffles and tears.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him close, feeling him tremble in the circle of my embrace. His sobs were so heartbreaking, they brought tears to my own eyes.

  “He’s dead, Mark. He’s dead, a
nd it’s all my fault. I must have said the wrong thing like I did when I was talking to you. Or maybe I’m just fucking crazy. Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Maybe the job has gotten to me.”

  I couldn’t help the sputter of inappropriate laughter that burst out of me. I pushed Jason to arm’s length, gripping his shoulders tightly. “That’s ridiculous, J. The only thing crazy about you is what you just said. Don’t you think I would have noticed if my best friend was off his rocker?”

  He sniffed, looking so vulnerable it broke my heart. “Your best friend?”

  I brought one hand up to rub the back of his hair. “Who else would be my best friend, you dork? We’re up each other’s asses twenty-four-seven. I don’t have time to have another best friend.”

  “Partners,” he said.

  “Partners in crime.”

  At that, he pushed away from me and burst into a fit of hysterical giggling. When he finally caught his breath, he was lying flat on his back in the parking lot looking up into my bewildered face. “Partners in crime,” he said. “Bet you never thought that nickname would end up being literal.”

  I felt the corner of my mouth turn up as my own smile threatened. “You mean because you’re going to be a convict?”

  He nodded. “Are you going to come to the prison on weekends and talk to me through the glass?”

  I pretended to consider it. “You know I work most weekends. But I might be able to make an exception if you could score us some conjugal visits.”

  His tears had stopped falling, and he swiped the rest of them away with the palms of his hands. “I think maybe you have to be married to have those.”

  I waggled my eyebrows. “Might be worth it.”

  And that comment sobered us both up. Fuck, what were we even talking about? Getting married? Maybe we were both off our rockers and didn’t know it yet. Whatever the case, we needed to shut the hell up and get back in the car. This conversation was dangerous. Mainly because it had me thinking things I shouldn’t, and from the look in his watery blue eyes, Jason was thinking them, too.