The Doctor's Secret (Copper Point Medical Book 1)

Home > Other > The Doctor's Secret (Copper Point Medical Book 1) > Page 12
The Doctor's Secret (Copper Point Medical Book 1) Page 12

by Heidi Cullinan


  Simon startled as he saw Hong-Wei, and Hong-Wei knew it was bad because for the first time, Simon blanched instead of blushed. He wouldn’t meet Hong-Wei’s gaze as Kathryn praised the three of them either. It wasn’t until Hong-Wei took Simon’s arm and drew him into an alcove near the dish return area that he managed to get him to speak. “Are you all right?”

  Simon still couldn’t look at Hong-Wei, but he managed to focus on the shoulder of Hong-Wei’s lab coat. “I didn’t want you to see.”

  “Why not? You were pretty cute up there.” It was true. He was. Quite adorable. It was the song that was godawful.

  Simon dared a cautious glance at him. “Do… do you listen to K-pop?”

  “No, but I’m moderately familiar with it. My sister is an avid fan.”

  Somehow this only seemed to send Simon into his clouds of despair again. “I’m sorry, then.”

  “But why? I honestly don’t understand.”

  “Because we suck. I mean, I try, but I don’t have any dance training. I’m simply copying what I see online. Jared and Owen are nothing but hams. I keep telling them we should do something other than K-pop, but they think the dances are fun. Which they are. It always felt okay because I’m pretty sure I’m the only person in northern Wisconsin listening to the genre. I’ve always dreaded someone who knows about it seeing us do this and realizing how stupid we look. Or finding our efforts offensive.” His shoulders sagged, and he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  Hong-Wei didn’t know quite what to say. If he hadn’t developed a callus to white people cluelessly making a hash of other people’s cultures at this point, he didn’t know how he’d have survived his life. Was that what Simon was worried about? Or did he think Hong-Wei cared about K-pop and was offended by the way they’d failed to replicate dance moves? How was he supposed to respond?

  He seriously didn’t remember flirting being this complicated.

  Hong-Wei decided to play the middle. “I’m not offended. Why don’t the three of you expand your repertoire, though?”

  More wilting. “See, you are offended, and you’re only being nice.”

  “I’m going to let you in on a secret.” Hong-Wei leaned in close as he pitched his voice low. “I respect the right of others to enjoy it, but I don’t care for K-pop.” When Simon shivered, Hong-Wei drew back, concerned, and this time Simon blushed.

  “I— Sorry. It gets me when you put your hand on my elbow. Then you whispered in my ear this time too, and it shorted my circuits.”

  Hong-Wei blinked at him. “I put my hand on your elbow?” He glanced down, saw Simon was right, and let go. “I’m so sorry. Do I do this often?”

  Simon touched the hem of his shirt. “Yes. But I didn’t say you should stop.”

  Kathryn’s warning echoed in his head… then died under the heat in Simon’s gaze. Hong-Wei gave him a half smile. “Mr. Lane. How forward of you. Right here at work?”

  “It’s just an elbow.”

  The spell of the moment was tangible between them, the air heavy with desire. On the other side of the wall, the cafeteria buzzed with people still talking about the K-pop dance, but here in their corner, Hong-Wei and Simon were alone, and for the first time Simon wasn’t hesitating, wasn’t running.

  Don’t let him get away.

  Hong-Wei lifted his hand, this time to take Simon’s arm deliberately. To caress him with his thumb, feel his pulse at the crook of his elbow, make him tremble as he ghosted his fingers to Simon’s wrist and—

  “Dr. Wu?”

  The flash of fear in Simon’s eye triggered something primal in Hong-Wei. Even before his brain recognized the speaker was Andreas, Hong-Wei had taken Simon’s arm, yes, but to put him behind his body and shove him gently toward the fake ficus at the back exit of the cafeteria. He stepped forward on wooden legs, his mind screaming at him, That was too close, you were almost seen making love to Simon’s hand in the cafeteria by the one man you can never let see you making out with Simon’s anything. The next thing he knew, he was staring at Andreas, pasting on the kind of smile he used on doctors and administrators at Baylor when he’d been in residency pulling three-day shifts and slowly going out of his mind, but didn’t want them to know.

  Inside, he acknowledged the truth. He was falling for Simon, more so every day, and he didn’t want to go slowly anymore. Unfortunately, as he stared down Erin Andreas, he realized he might already be too late.

  ANDREAS NEARLY caught us.

  The thought rang through Simon as he fled the cafeteria, wandering aimlessly through the halls on unsteady feet. If Hong-Wei hadn’t been so quick to react and send Simon away, Simon would have stood there looking guilty and terrified as Andreas rounded the corner.

  He made his way to the elevator and stumbled toward the nurses’ station, avoiding people who had been to the show. After locking himself in the patient shower area and sitting in the corner, he hugged his legs to his body, drew shuddering breaths, and attempted to calm himself.

  It was a sign. He’d considered for two seconds giving in to this, letting his heart drive instead of his head, and it had nearly ended in disaster.

  Except… it had felt so good. He shut his eyes, remembering the moment Hong-Wei had smiled at him, the way he’d drawn him aside. He’d touched Simon’s elbow subconsciously. It hadn’t been him making a move. He had simply reached naturally for Simon.

  If it wasn’t for my job, I would leap into this. He knew that now, no question. Fear aside, hesitation be damned. Except Simon did have a job, one he loved. One he needed. If he didn’t work at the hospital, he’d have to apply at the care center or move. Or commute, possibly a crazy distance.

  Obviously he wouldn’t quit his job for a relationship, but how was he supposed to work so closely with a man he so desperately wanted to have a relationship with?

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, worried it was the charge nurse asking where the hell he was. It wasn’t the charge nurse or anyone at the hospital, though.

  “Hey, Mom.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound as if he wasn’t huddled in fear in a bathroom. “What’s going on?”

  “Sorry to call you at work, hon. I’ll keep this brief. I wanted to remind you about the fundraiser meeting tonight.”

  Simon could barely focus on what she was saying. “There’s a meeting?”

  “Yes, dear. You remember, you agreed to be on the committee? The first meeting is tonight at seven. Your sister can’t make it, so I’m counting on you to go. I’d asked you to make sure your schedule was free, and I’m hoping it’s still the case. They need to start planning now if they’re going to get anywhere by the Founder’s Day festival. And then you have to work at the fundraiser tomorrow as well.”

  Simon didn’t remember any of this. You’ve been so wrapped up in Hong-Wei, that’s why. He shifted his body so his legs were to his side and sat up straighter. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m free. I’ll go to the fundraiser too. But I can’t remember where the meeting is tonight. Also, do I need to bring anything?”

  “It’s at church. Probably a pencil and paper, I’d say. Just for heaven’s sake, don’t be late. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “I won’t be late, I promise.” I won’t let destructive thoughts distract me anymore either.

  Simon left the bathroom and went to the nurses’ station, where everyone smiled at him and told him what a great job they’d done with the performance, as usual. Amanda wanted to play some K-pop on Spotify at the desk to get Simon to give them another taste, but Simon flatly refused, reminding them it wasn’t allowed and they needed to get to work.

  He worried all afternoon he’d run into Hong-Wei, but Simon didn’t see him. This was good, he decided. It made this easier.

  He left the second his shift was over, ignoring texts from Jared and Owen asking why the hell he’d disappeared so fast after the performance. After a stop at the house to change, Simon went to the Main Street Cafe to eat dinner and read a book while he waited for the seve
n o’clock meeting.

  At six, he got texts from Jared and Owen again, asking where he was. A meeting my mother asked me to attend, he replied, then stopped answering.

  At six thirty Hong-Wei started texting.

  Sorry, I had a late surgery after your shift. Emergency appendectomy. Rita assisted. I want to talk to you. Can we please meet?

  Simon didn’t answer.

  It was cowardly, but he told himself it was the smartest approach.

  The meeting was incredibly boring. His mother had volunteered him for a subcommittee of the city festival planning commission, and his group was in charge of the entertainment venues for the Founder’s Day festival. This meant for the two hours he sat in the room, mostly everyone argued, and he checked his phone to see Hong-Wei’s increasingly intense texts asking where he was and insisting they needed to speak.

  Then Hong-Wei wrote, Please. I need to speak to you, if only for a few minutes.

  Simon’s shoulders slumped. He could have resisted pushy Hong-Wei, but those pleading texts made him fold all too fast. Besides, if he didn’t give in, he could well imagine Hong-Wei wandering town like a madman, attempting to locate Simon to plead his case.

  Still, he felt he should make one last effort to resist. Simon pulled his phone under the table and tapped out a text. I’m in a meeting. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

  I’ll wait until you’re done. Where are you? I can come to you.

  So much for resisting. Simon glanced around the room to see if anyone was paying attention to him, but his frantic texting was nothing compared to the scandal of three stages instead of four and one made of a hay wagon.

  Simon slipped both hands under the table to text more efficiently. I’m at the Presbyterian Church. Don’t come in, because we’re having a meeting. I have no idea when we’ll be done.

  I’ll wait in your car. Is it unlocked?

  Of course it was unlocked. Who locked their car in Copper Point? Simon shut his eyes on a silent sigh. Yes. But you don’t need to come. I’d actually prefer you didn’t.

  I know. I’m sorry. I promise it will be short.

  Simon put the phone on top of the table, but as he set it down, one last text came through.

  He didn’t see anything.

  Simon didn’t reply to this, but those four words rattled in his head the rest of the meeting, banging against the fear and guilt he’d tried to pack down all afternoon. He didn’t see anything. This was what Simon had secretly lived in terror of, that somehow because they hadn’t been paying attention Andreas had witnessed their private moment. Simon didn’t know what it took to be fired for breaking the policy—he wasn’t dating Hong-Wei, and surely they couldn’t do anything to him for simply gazing at the man with want—but the idea that now Andreas would be onto him, watching him like a hawk, made him feel ill. When he left the meeting and walked toward his car, he solidified his resolve to clarify he’d be happy to have an intimate friendship with Hong-Wei, and nothing more.

  Hong-Wei indeed waited in Simon’s car—in the driver’s seat. Simon stopped short for a second in the middle of the parking lot, realized the other attendees of the meeting would be coming out soon, and hurried to the passenger side.

  “What are you doing?” He fumbled angrily with his keys and tossed them at Hong-Wei. “Go before someone sees you.”

  “And what? Spreads a rumor that the surgeon took a drive with his nurse, who he’s also friends with, the same as he is with his nurse’s housemates? Relax.”

  No power on earth could make Simon relax right now. Face flushed, hands clammy, stomach doing flips, he fastened his seat belt and stared out the window. “Just drive.”

  Hong-Wei didn’t, not immediately. He withdrew his phone, pulled out the earphones, and plugged it into Simon’s stereo system. Soon music began to play over the car speakers—something classical and mournful, with strings and choral voices full of vibrato.

  “It’s Poulenc’s Stabat Mater, the ‘Dolorosa.’ I was playing through the entire piece earlier.” He put the car into drive and maneuvered out of the parking lot as he spoke. “This particular version is by the Estonia National Symphony Orchestra and the Estonian Philharmonic Choir.”

  “It’s very… sad.”

  “It’s Mary’s lament as Christ is crucified on the cross, so yes.”

  Simon had been staring at the musical app on the phone, where a tiny album cover glowed against a black screen, but now he glanced at Hong-Wei. “Are you religious?”

  “I guess. I’m Buddhist, though. You?”

  “A little. Methodist.” Simon went back to staring at the album cover. “Seems odd you knew about the Stabat Mater but I didn’t, since I’m the Christian.”

  “I think it’s more a Catholic thing, so we’re both out. I know about it because I love classical music. In more than the operating room. I always have.” He smiled wryly, his expression distant and melancholy. “I wanted to be a professional musician. I studied piano and violin all the way through high school, right up until I fought my father on what I wanted to major in. When he found out I was applying for music scholarships so I could be a music major, he threatened to take my violin away and sell the piano.”

  Simon looked up sharply, mouth open in shock. “That’s terrible.”

  Hong-Wei shrugged. “I don’t know. It was the only way to get me to listen. My sister intervened, convinced my father not to act so rashly, got me to use the music scholarship to get into a school with a strong science program and begin taking courses good for a premed major. You can go to medical school with any major, of course, but the more sciences the better. So I took some music courses, but also human anatomy and chemistry and so on, and I was in the orchestra. I ended up with a music minor, but I followed my father’s path after all.”

  This was a side of Hong-Wei Simon had never imagined. “Why didn’t you stick with music?”

  “Because they were right. It was far tougher than I’d thought, and though I was good, I wasn’t good enough, not to make a real living at it. At best I could have become a professor at a university, or taught high school, or been principal violin in a small city’s symphony, and none of it was what I wanted. I dreamed of being on a major stage, but I was lost in a sea of talent, of people vying for the same dream as me. I gave it up, but I never stopped loving music.”

  Simon ached for him. “That makes me so sad.”

  “It’s the reality of the world.”

  “But it’s still sad. Do you not play at all now?”

  His laugh was sharp and bitter. “When would I have the chance? When I wasn’t putting in my residency hours, I was moonlighting or sleeping. My entire life was being a doctor. I’m a better doctor than musician anyway.”

  “Who said you had to be the best to do it? Besides, you have more time now. You’re still busy, but you had time tonight to run all over town finding me. You could play violin now, for fun. You could get a piano—”

  Simon yelped as the car stopped abruptly. They were in the middle of nowhere, near a stretch of forest heading out toward the lake. He put his hand on the dash and looked around for whatever wildlife had caused Hong-Wei to stop, but Hong-Wei only cut the engine, pocketed the keys, got out of the car, and came around to Simon’s door.

  “Come with me.”

  Simon allowed himself to be led out of the car and into the woods, but he couldn’t help glancing around nervously. “Hong-Wei, this isn’t the best place. There are bears—”

  Then he couldn’t say anything else, because Hong-Wei pressed him to a tree. When Simon gasped in surprise, lifting his arms to push at Hong-Wei, Hong-Wei captured Simon’s hands—lightly, he could get away if he wanted—and held them against the bark.

  Simon’s knees went weak as Hong-Wei leaned in close, his earnest face lit by moonlight through the trees.

  “I want to explain this to you, but you’re not hearing me. All I’ve done since the day I gave up music is work. I told myself I’d become the best doctor in the country,
the world, to make up for having to give up my dream.”

  “You are a wonderful doctor. You’re the best I’ve ever worked with. What does it matter, though, if you beat everyone else or not? And I don’t understand, why can’t you play anymore? You’re just like Owen and Jared, always having to top everyone. Why can’t—”

  “I’m not like Owen and Jared.” His grip on Simon’s hands slackened. “This isn’t working. I can’t get the words out right.”

  Simon slipped his hands out of Hong-Wei’s grip and settled them on his chest. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not.” He leaned into the tree, into Simon. “I came to Copper Point because I was running away. I didn’t know what I wanted anymore, but I knew it wasn’t to be the best. I’d figured that much out, almost too late. I ran away as far as I could, hoping someplace quiet would let me sort things out. It worked too. I know what I want now.”

  His breath was on Simon’s neck, tickling his skin, sending goose bumps across his flesh. “You do?”

  “Yes.” Hong-Wei lifted his head, his gaze level with Simon’s, no longer sad, no longer lost, only fixed and determined and entirely focused. “I want you.”

  Simon tried to slide away from Hong-Wei’s intensity, but he was fully flush to the tree. His knees had already sagged on him once, and the truth was, his heart wasn’t in his escape. “Hong-Wei,” he whispered.

  Hong-Wei threaded fingers through Simon’s hair. “Andreas didn’t see us. I swear to you. We can keep our relationship secret. We’ll be professional at work, but outside of work—”

  “Outside of work we’ll what? Meet in this forest? Send Owen and Jared on grocery runs? Do you think if we start this, we’ll be able to control how we behave around one another?”

  “Do you honestly think we can now?”

  Simon’s gut twisted in ache. “This is my job on the line. My life. I’ve never lived anywhere but here except when we were in Madison for school, and I was miserable the entire time. I watch dramas from around the world and dream of travel in exotic places—exotic to me is Chicago, for what it’s worth—but I rarely get farther than Duluth. My dreams are simply dreams. My reality is I will live here, probably never get married or ever have a real relationship, and if Owen and Jared get serious about someone, I’ll end up back with my parents. I’ve made peace—” His voice broke, and he had to gather himself before he could continue. “I’m not going to have an exciting life. I’ve made peace with it. It doesn’t help me when you try to tear that peace down.”

 

‹ Prev