Dr. Perfect: An MM Gay Romance

by Peter Styles

  Friends with benefits, I reminded myself, though the argument was beginning to sound hollow. I didn’t want to be friends with benefits. I wanted all of Mark. I wanted to keep going like this and see where we ended up in about twenty or thirty years. I knew it was wishful thinking, but it’s what I wanted. I knew that now.

  “Your mom seemed different in the videos,” I said.

  “Yeah,” was all he offered in response.

  “What happened to our parents, do you think? Why can’t they accept us for who we are?”

  Mark kicked at a stick on the ground, seeming to ponder my question. “I don’t know, man. They see what they want to see.”

  “Like Brent Ward’s mother. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman buried more deeply in denial.”

  “She just didn’t want to see the signs. Hell, even I didn’t see the signs, and I’m trained to spot that kind of thing. But you saw it.”

  “I did. But I’m not Brent’s mother. I didn’t see him every day. I’d imagine it would be easy to overlook the signs if you love someone. They come in all sweaty and acting funny, jonesing for a fix. You don’t understand what’s wrong with them. You think maybe they’re sick or something. And then they get their fix, and they’re a different person. Suddenly everything is right again, and you shake your head and think maybe it was all in your mind.”

  Mark froze, coming to a sudden stop right in the middle of the path we were on.

  “What?” I asked in alarm. “Did you see something? A wild animal or—” He turned to me with a look of shock on his face, and my fear ratcheted up. “Mark, you’re scaring me. I’m really not used to being in the woods.”

  Mark bit his lip and stared up at the sky. Then at the ground, and then the sky once more. I could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

  “You’re a genius,” he said finally. He picked me up and spun me around, which felt really freaking weird, I must say. I wasn’t used to being manhandled like that by another dude.

  “How am I a genius?” I asked when he set me back down on my feet. “Ass wizard, maybe. Blowjob ninja, definitely. But genius?”

  Mark ignored my attempt at sexy banter and dragged me all the way to the house by my hand. I was breathless by the time we got there, and so was Mark, but he was also excited as hell. I was just confused, especially when he grabbed his cell phone from the end table beside the sofa and called someone.

  “Why are you being so mysterious?” I whined. “You’re freaking me out.”

  “Shhhh,” he warned. “Just be quiet and listen.” After a few rings, he spoke into the phone. “Dr. Rosenfeld, you got a minute?” A pause, then, “Awesome. I have something to run by you.”

  Mark put the phone on speaker and set it in the middle of the kitchen table. We took seats across from each other and stared at the phone while Rosenfeld babbled for a moment about how busy it was and how he was really hurting without his two best residents. I glanced up at Mark, surprised that Rosenfeld had included me. Then the man surprised me even further by asking how I was doing.

  “He’s doing fine,” Mark said. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I have an idea of what might have happened that day with Terwilliger.”

  “Oh?” Rosenfeld said. “Enlighten me, then. If it vindicates Jason, I’m all ears.”

  Mark smiled and pressed on. “You know the nurse who administered the pain meds?”

  “Jolene Starr,” Rosenfeld supplied.

  “Yes. Well, I noticed something when I came into the room that day. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but Jason just said something that made me remember it. She was sweating and acting weird when I saw her. I noticed it, but I chalked it up to being hungover since it was New Year’s Day. Roberta sent her to the pharmacy to pick up the morphine, but the order for Dilaudid was put in just after she left. That meant she had two types of pain meds when she left the pharmacy.” He paused, presumably for effect.

  “Go on,” Rosenfeld prodded.

  “When she came back, she looked completely different. She was no longer sweating, and she was acting like she felt much better. I remember noticing it and thinking it was odd, but again, I made some excuse in my mind. I decided maybe it had been the smell of puke that was bothering her. But that was stupid as hell. Have you ever seen anyone break out in a sweat because of a little vomit? Or act all out of sorts and then straighten right up when they leave the room? I was a fucking idiot, Dr. Rosenfeld. Her symptoms didn’t make much sense to me, so I just made excuses.”

  “So, you’re saying she was high when she came back,” Rosenfeld said, coming to the same conclusion I had already reached.

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. She was exhibiting classic withdrawal symptoms when she left the room, and after she picked up a vial of morphine and a vial of Dilaudid, she was right as rain. I just can’t figure out exactly how she did it.”

  Rosenfeld hummed. “It’s a bit of a stretch, but then it’s as good of an explanation as any in a mystery we can’t seem to solve.”

  My heart was pounding double time. Could Mark be onto something? Could he have just saved my ass from prison? If so, then I had a lot more reason to kiss him than just the fact that he was sexy as hell.

  But then hope gave way to horror, because this was Jolene we were talking about. My friend. One of the few people in the world I trusted. She wasn’t a junkie like Mark said, was she? I would have known, wouldn’t I?

  I thought of Brent Ward’s mother. Of my own family. Of Mark’s family. The human mind was a powerful thing when it came to protecting itself from hard truths, even when the signs were there.

  “What did Jolene say when you questioned her?” I asked, speaking up for the first time.

  “Oh, Jason,” Rosenfeld said, surprise evident in his voice. “You’re there, too. I didn’t realize I was on speaker phone.” He cleared his throat. “She said you told her to give the morphine and that she hadn’t realized the patient was allergic to it. She said she was confused about the order for two pain meds, but she hadn’t bothered to question it. She just gave what you told her to.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I said, feeling the sting of her betrayal lodge in my heart like a barb. “I told her specifically to give the Dilaudid, but obviously I didn’t watch her closely enough to see that she gave the wrong one. She—”

  I wanted to say that she’d sold me out, but it hurt too much to say that aloud. And maybe she hadn’t. But then that meant I was still in big trouble. God, my heart couldn’t make up its mind. Which was more painful? That I’d made a deadly mistake or that I’d been betrayed by someone I’d trusted?

  “It still doesn’t add up, though,” Rosenfeld said. “Jolene definitely gave the morphine because the autopsy confirmed it was in Terwilliger’s system. And she returned the Dilaudid to the pharmacy. Both medications are accounted for.” He sighed deeply. “As much as I’d like to vindicate you, Jason, the evidence doesn’t bear it out.”

  Mark growled. “I know I’m right about this. That woman is a junkie, and she got a fix when she picked that medication up. Then she purposely gave Mr. Terwilliger the wrong medication to cover her tracks. I’m thinking she had to have taken the Dilaudid since Terwilliger obviously got the morphine.”

  “But we have the Dilaudid, Mark,” Rosenfeld said. “We have it in our possession, locked up as evidence. How could she have taken it and returned it to the pharmacy?”

  Mark ran a hand through his hair, more frustrated than I’d ever seen him. He was trying so hard to save me, and it warmed my heart to see how much it was tearing him up to come up against yet another brick wall. But then his eyes widened. “Did you confirm that the vial actually contains Dilaudid? Look at the cap and see if there’s a needle hole. Sometimes they can’t be seen at first glance, especially if you use a small enough needle.”

  Rosenfeld’s voice brightened. “You may be onto something there. The morphine was given, and the Dilaudid was accounted for. The pieces fit together,
so no one would have thought to check the contents.”

  Mark smiled at me across the table. He seemed so damn sure he was right, he had me feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time since Rosenfeld had pulled me into his office and dropped the bomb on me.

  We said our goodbyes, and Rosenfeld wished me luck. He sounded sincere, and I believed he meant it. “You two take care,” he said. “And enjoy your vacation because when you get back, I’m going to work your asses to the bone.”

  After he clicked off, Mark grinned across the table at me. “He said work your asses to the bone.”

  I put a hand to my mouth, feigning shock. “Do you think he knows what we’ve been doing up here?”

  Mark got up and came around the table, cupping the back of my head in one of his strong hands and forcing me to look up at him. “That you worked my ass to the bone last night?”

  “More like I boned your ass,” I said. “But he got a few of the words right.”

  Mark bent down to plant a noisy kiss on my lips, but he snatched away from me when Rosenfeld’s voice came through the phone speaker. “I’m puking now,” he groaned. “Do I need to give you boys a lesson on how to hang up a phone? This is just awkward.”

  “Rosenfeld, I—” Mark dragged in a deep breath. “I thought you ended the call.”

  “I hung up, yes, but I immediately tried to make a call to get that vial checked out. You didn’t bother to end your side of the call, so you were still there, blocking me from making another call. That sometimes happens when you’re talking on a landline.”

  “You could have spoken when you realized what had happened instead of eavesdropping,” Mark said.

  “And miss that conversation? Not on your life. When were you planning on telling me about this?”

  I decided to speak up and save Mark. “When we figured it out ourselves. It’s kind of a new development.” I glanced at Mark, hoping I was saying the right thing. I felt relieved when he nodded.

  “We’re going to have to talk about this,” Rosenfeld said. “There are protocols when it comes to relationships between coworkers.”

  “Why don’t you sound surprised or angry?” Mark asked.

  Rosenfeld chuckled. “I’ve been wondering about you two for a long time.”

  Mark looked troubled at this news. “How? Why?”

  “You and Jason are very close, Mark. So close you practically finish each other’s sentences. You play tennis together, work with each other all the time, neither one of you has ever mentioned dating anyone or being in a relationship. And everyone knows Jason is gay. He’s never been shy about letting people know. How could I not be suspicious?”

  We were all silent for a few tense seconds, trying to process everything. Then Rosenfeld spoke up again. “Why do you think I was so worried about you, Mark, when this Terwilliger thing came to light and I had to put Jason on leave? I told you not to stick your neck out and get yourself in trouble, too. But then when you took leave to be with him, I pretty much knew my suspicions were correct, especially when you said you were the only family he had.”

  I looked up at Mark, startled. “You said that?”

  He nodded sheepishly. “Something to that effect. I mean, it wasn’t that exactly. He asked— Well, I said—” He blushed. “Yeah, that was pretty much it.”

  I felt a smile creeping across my face, because holy hell this shy, flustered Mark was adorable. I just wanted to jump up and kiss those pink cheeks of his and tell him I thought of him as my family, too. That I wanted to be his family. That I’d never dared to dream that he’d felt the same about me.

  Rosenfeld cleared his throat. “As much fun as this is, I need to get this Dilaudid thing taken care of. Or should we just send Jason to jail without a fight?”

  “No, sir,” Mark said. “Go ahead and get that done. And thanks for everything.”

  “No problem. Could you please end the call this time? I’m afraid of what I might hear if you don’t.”

  We both laughed, and Mark very deliberately ended the call and then checked it three times before snatching me up by my collar and kissing me breathless.

  19

  Jason

  About an hour after I clocked in on my first day back, Rosenfeld called me to his office. When I got there, Jolene was sitting in the chair across from his desk. She looked broken. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she was fidgeting with her signature braid.

  I gulped. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  “Have a seat, Jason.” He indicated a chair near the wall opposite him and behind and to the left of Jolene. “We got the lab results back from the vial of Dilaudid that was returned to the pharmacy.”

  I lowered myself slowly into the chair, fear and hope warring within me. “And what did you find?”

  Dr. Rosenfeld steepled his fingers beneath his chin and met my gaze head-on. “The Dilaudid had been removed with a small syringe and replaced with normal saline. The hole left by the needle was barely detectable, and, as you know, administering normal saline to a patient would not have harmed them. If Mark hadn’t figured it out, the hospital would likely have been none the wiser.”

  My mouth hung ajar as I stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was telling me. Normal saline. Small needle. “So, Mark was right?” I glanced over at Jolene. “About everything?”

  Jolene still hadn’t made direct eye contact with me. Her fingers trembled as she worried her braid. “I’m sorry, Jason. I never meant for things to get so crazy.”

  Even though I’d known where this was going, it shocked me to hear the beginnings of a confession. This was really happening. A small sound came out of me. A pained little squeak.

  “Steve. He—” Her voice cut off, and for a moment, I thought she would burst into fresh tears and be unable to speak. But she rallied, grasped the arms of the chairs until her delicate knuckles started to turn white, and pushed through the tears. “Steve is addicted to Dilaudid, and he talked me into doing it, too. At first, I was just doing it to please him. I would have done anything, I guess, to make him like me. We were doing it every night for a while, and I got hooked on it.”

  “God, Jolene.” I hadn’t meant to say anything, but it just popped out. How could the woman I talked to on a near-daily basis be confessing this to me? It was surreal.

  “He dumped me,” she said. “That night at the New Year’s party. He left with that blonde at the bar, and I had to go home by myself. I always seem to end up with the shittiest guys in the world, and this one was the worst yet. He got me hooked on Dilaudid and then left me high and dry. I’ve treated so many patients for withdrawals, but until you’ve experienced it yourself, you have no idea.”

  “Jolene.” I was so blown away by what she was telling me, it was the only word I could force out of my mouth.

  I wanted to feel relieved that I wasn’t to blame for Terwilliger’s death after all, but all I could feel was a strange mixture of pity and anger. I was floundering. This was a woman I’d trusted, and now she was confirming that she’d nearly caused me to go to prison. Part of me felt sorry for her, but another part felt so damn betrayed. And stupid. How had I not noticed the changes in her?

  “I was hurting that day, Jason.” Fresh tears coursed down her cheeks. “Not only had I been rejected, but I was having some serious withdrawals. And then, thanks to you and Mark, some Dilaudid fell right into my lap. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I swear. When I got to the pharmacy, they told me that Dilaudid had been added to the order. I knew y’all weren’t going to give the patient both of them, but I knew he had to get something. If I just gave him normal saline, he would have just kept hollering, and somebody might have caught on. That was my line of thinking, anyway. So, I slipped into the bathroom, shot up the Dilaudid, and replaced it with normal saline. Then when you told me to give Mr. Terwilliger the Dilaudid, I gave him the morphine instead, never dreaming that he might be allergic to it. I’m sorry, Jason. You trusted me, and I betrayed you.”

  “Even worse, you kille
d a man,” I said.

  “Don’t you think I know that? I haven’t been able to sleep since I found out how he died. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about killing myself. But every time I came close, all I could think about was how you said I was strong. I wanted to believe that, I really did.” Tears were coursing hard down her cheeks, and her words were so tangled up in sniffles, it was difficult to understand them. “I wasn’t going to let you go down for this, Jason. I was just waiting to see what happened, and if things got too bad, I was gonna confess. I was just trying to get my courage up, you know? You have to believe me.”

  I didn’t know if I believed her or not, but I told her in a hollow voice that I did.

  It was a bittersweet victory. I hadn’t wanted to talk to Mark through prison glass, conjugal visits or not. But a man was still dead, and a woman I’d cared about enough to call a friend had caused his death. She was probably going to prison for sure, and I didn’t know quite how I felt about that.

  When our uncomfortable meeting was over, Dr. Rosenfeld followed me out into the hall, leaving Jolene crying and sniffling in his office. We faced each other awkwardly for a moment before Rosenfeld stuffed his hands into the pockets of his lab coat and smiled.

  “I know this is probably not the best time for this,” he said. “But I wanted to let you know how much I value you as a doctor. I wish Mark had called me out on my bad behavior sooner. I didn’t mean to make you feel inferior.”

  I swallowed a lump. “Thank you, Dr. Rosenfeld. That means a lot.”

  “Friends?” He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and offered it to me.

  I shook it. “Friends.”

  He let out a relieved breath. “Good. Because I’d hate for there to be any bad blood between us after your residency is over.” He grinned and leaned in with a conspiratorial wink. “When we’re both working here.”

  My eyes widened, and I searched for words. Any words. Because… was he saying what I thought he was saying?