“Hi, Corey, how are you?” He smiles shyly at me, then looks down, his long lashes brushing the tops of his freckled, almost porcelain-white cheeks.
“I’m OK, thank you.” His voice trails off as though he isn’t sure what to say next.
“Corey, Nash is a doctor. Will you let him look you over?” Rain asks in a soft voice. Corey starts to shake his head towards his friend when Rain implores him. “Please, babe? I’d feel so much better if you’d just get checked out.” Rain and Corey look at each other intensely for a few seconds before Corey moves closer and whispers something in his ear. Rain nods softly, and Corey sighs in defeat.
“Fine.” He turns towards me and continues, “I don’t want to put you out, but wouldyou mind checking me over, please? I think I’m fine, but if it will make Rain feel better, then it’s better to be safe than sorry, I suppose.”
“I don’t mind at all. Shall we?” I pick up my medical bag I left leaning by the kitchen, and gesture for Corey to lead the way upstairs.
Corey pauses at the top, unsure where to go, and I smile before leading him to the spare bedroom at the back of Aidan’s home. This room looks out over the river behind the house; the weeping willows lining the riverbanks tickle the surface with their leaves and catkins in the summer, but are bare and spectral in the winter. It’s a beautiful view no matter the season, and I find myself hopeful that Corey can find some peace here.
He enters the room behind me and stands somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the floor as I open my medical bag on the end of the bed and start removing equipment. When I turn to see him twisting the cuffs of his jacket in nervous fingers, I smile and tilt my head slightly at him.
“Corey, why don’t you sit down?” I gesture towards the chair facing the bed and move around him to close the door a bit, leaving it ajar a good few inches so he doesn’t feel hemmed in. “Would you prefer for Rain to join us?” Iask, wanting him to know he doesn’t need to be alone with me if he’s nervous. Corey shakes his head as he sits, but his cuffs are still getting pretty rough treatment. “You sure? It’s no problem…”
“No, I’m fine. Honestly. Thank you, though. I appreciate the thought.”
“OK,” I say, relieved he seems to be relaxing a little. He’s released his cuffs from his nervous fingers, at least, and instead is rubbing his thumbs against his forefingers, his gaze fixed on his hands. “I need to go through some initial questions, Corey,” I explain in my doctor voice, usually reserved for nervous kids or panicked parents. “And then we can do a physical examination. Is that alright with you?” He hesitates before I see his head bob in a nod.
I won’t do this if he doesn’t want me to, so I kneel in front of him and say, “Can you look at me?”
I hear him swallow and take a deep breath. When he releases it, he slowly angles his head up to look at me. With him sitting on the chair and me kneeling on the floor, his face is a little above mine. His gaze, tilted downwards slightly, lands on mine, and I feel locked in place. Beyond that artificial blue gaze, I can’t see his real eyes, so getting a read on his feelings isdifficult. I’m going to have to get him to talk.
“What’s worrying you?” He huffs out a small chuckle.
“It’s just, this is so surreal. Yesterday, I woke up hungover on my friend’s sofa, and this morning I’m in what feels like the quaintest village at the end of the world, with a very handsome doctor kneeling at my feet.”
We look at each other for a few seconds before we both snort out a laugh.
“I am incredibly handsome, but don’t worry. I don’t bite.”
Corey bites his bottom lip as if to stop himself from saying something. I don’t want to imagine what it might have been, since I’m here to make sure Corey’s physically healthy, and maybe – hopefully – to be his friend. That’s it. He might be gorgeous, but I’m not in a place in my life where I can let myself notice, or at least pursue, anything like that. Shelley would disagree, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
“I can imagine you feel a bit disoriented. Would that be fair?” He nods his head from side to side, with a look on his face suggesting he doesn’t disagree, not entirely, anyway.
“I guess. It’s not my first time upping sticks and starting afresh somewhere new,though. I’ll be OK.” I smile at him.
“OK, good. Well, I’m here if you need anything. Shall we get started?” He nods his assent, and I continue.
I take a medical history and ascertain no prior conditions or concerns. I take his blood pressure and then ask him to remove his T-shirt so I can listen to his chest. His ribs are visible, as are his pelvic bones.
“Without a proper weighing scale, I can’t determine your BMI, but just looking at your body condition, I would say you need to gain some weight, and I would recommend an all-round multivitamin and mineral, and probably an over-the-counter iron supplement for a while. I can take bloods if you like to be sure…?” He shakes his head. “That’s OK. I think some commitment to weight gain and nutritional balance should be enough. You’re not malnourished, just underweight. So lots of protein, leafy green vegetables, and complex carbs. You know the drill.” He nods this time, and I smile at him.
Our faces are close as I lean in with my stethoscope to listen to his heart. Once again, our eyes meet, and I can’t tear my gaze away. He’s definitely wearing contact lenses – I can see the rim of them when his eyes move even the slightest bit – and I want nothing more than tosee what colour lies beneath the silicone hydrogel.
“Breathe normally for me,” I instruct so I can listen to his heart function. He complies immediately.
As I lean over to place the stethoscope on his back, I say, “Now take nice deep breaths for me.” Again, he complies without question, and I move the scope so I can listen to all four quadrants of his lungs. My proximity to him becomes distracting when I feel his breath on my neck, a sharp puff of surprise at the cold scope on his skin beneath the loose T-shirt he wears, followed by a slow exhale that raises goosebumps all down my neck and arm.
I step back abruptly, not willing to allow myself any physical reaction to this man, and force myself to emotionally detach. Distancing is something I’ve had to get good at through my medical career, and I’m not entirely sure why I’m struggling to employ my usual techniques with Corey. There’s something so endearingly soft about him that my psyche is crying out to protect. But he’s been through hell and has known me for a grand total of about twenty-five minutes. Who the fuck do I think I am to be projecting my own wants onto him? I give myself a mental telling-off and force the switch to flipin my mind, shutting down any and all of these thoughts.
I clear my throat and continue my examination of my patient.
Seven
Corey
When I said Nash was handsome, I wasn’t kidding. In fact, he may well be the most handsome man I’ve ever met. He’s tall, broad, and carries a bit of softness over his muscles. His arms are the stuff of dreams. Thick like the branches of a tree and coated in a fine dusting of golden-brown hair. The cardigan he’s wearing is ridiculously soft. Is it cashmere?
