More Than Her Doctor

Chapter six...

By the next morning, Paloma was a certified campus legend.

Her phone buzzed nonstop with messages and notifications. The video of Diane, the self-proclaimed queen bee, getting humiliated in the cafeteria had gone viral. There were edits, memes, slow-motion replays of the fall, and even a remix of the loud fart that sent her skirt flying. It was chaos. And Paloma? She had officially earned the reputation of the bold, fearless girl who dared to take on the mean girls.

Walking into campus with Kenya felt like entering a concert—students whispered, pointed, and even tried to take photos with her.

"Girl, you're literally trending," Kenya laughed, holding up her phone to show a meme of Paloma with a superhero cape. "You dethroned Diane and became the queen in one swipe."

Paloma grinned. "She had it coming."

But not everyone was amused.

Later that day, while Paloma and Kenya were walking to class, Diane strutted up to them, face still red with embarrassment. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” she hissed.

Paloma rolled her eyes. “It’s not about being clever. Just decent. Something you clearly forgot how to be.”

Diane's lip curled. “No one humiliates me like that and gets away with it.”

Before Paloma could even open her mouth, Kenya stepped forward and—smack—delivered a slap so hard it echoed.

“Talk about me behind my back again,” Kenya growled, “and I’ll bury your face in something worse than cement.”

Diane clutched her cheek in shock, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re crazy!”

Kenya smirked. “And proud.”

Diane stumbled off with a mix of fear and fury, and Paloma and Kenya fist-bumped.

But just when Paloma thought the day couldn’t get any wilder, she got an unexpected message.

Seojin: Come to my office. Now.

Her stomach dropped. She gulped, made a quick excuse to Kenya, and rushed off to the professor’s wing.

When she got there, she knocked hesitantly before stepping inside. Seojin was seated behind his desk, his eyes fixed on a paused frame of the video playing on his laptop.

Paloma blushed deeply. “You saw it?”

He didn’t smile. “The entire staff did. Half the campus did. Paloma… what happened?”

She walked forward slowly, arms crossed, cheeks burning. “They were trash-talking Kenya. And then you. Saying things about you that—” She stopped, taking a breath. “It made me so mad. I couldn’t let it slide.”

Seojin sighed, closing the laptop. “You poured cement and paint on three students. And farting powder?”

Paloma raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Technically, the powder did the final work.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, but the corner of his lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Still reckless.”

“I know,” she muttered. “But I don’t regret it.”

After a pause, Seojin leaned back in his chair, eyes softening. “Just… try not to start a cafeteria war next time.”

“I’ll try.”

Then, unexpectedly, he asked, “Do you want to go out to eat with me tonight? Dinner.”

Paloma’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart raced. Wait, was this a date? Was he asking her out for real?

Her mouth moved before her brain could process it. “Yes! I mean—sure. That sounds nice.”

Just as her heart fluttered, the door creaked open.

Jane.

Tall, graceful, curves on display in a tight button-down blouse that could barely hold her chest. Her smile lit up the room like she owned it.

“Oh!” she said, eyes lighting up as she saw Paloma. “Hey! I remember you. You helped me pick up my books the other day, right?”

Paloma forced a tight smile. “Yeah. That was me.”

Jane beamed. “So sweet of you.” Then she turned to Seojin. “Sorry I’m late, Professor Park. I’m ready for our tutoring session.”

Paloma’s heart clenched. Tutoring? Of course. Perfect smile. Big rack. And smart too?

Seojin nodded with a professional tone. “Yes, I’ll be tutoring Jane until her finals.”

Paloma gave him a sharp side-eye.

Jane sat down beside him, flipping her hair. “Thanks for making time for me.”

Paloma watched them, heart prickling with jealousy. She suddenly felt like she didn’t belong in the room anymore.

“I’ll be going now,” Paloma said quickly, already halfway out the door.

“Paloma—” Seojin started, but she was gone.

Outside, she blew out a frustrated breath. That stupid smile. Those perfect boobs. And her sitting so close to him.

“Why am I feeling like this?” she muttered to herself, storming off down the hallway. “He’s just my doctor. My professor. My… ugh, whatever.”

But deep down, she already knew: she was catching feelings fast.

…

Paloma was on her bed, legs kicking in the air, phone clutched in her hands as she scrolled through outfit ideas.

“Something cute... classy… hot but not desperate,” she mumbled, rapidly typing dinner outfits with older man aesthetic into her browser.

The screen loaded a bunch of sexy, exposed gowns—backless silks, thigh-high slits, sheer fabrics that left very little to the imagination.

Paloma’s eyes widened.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “These are... wow.”

Her cheeks flushed hot as a thousand intrusive thoughts bombarded her brain.

What if it was a date? What if he looked at her differently tonight? What if...

She let out a loud squeal, threw her phone down, and screamed into her pillow.

“Paloma, get it together!” she scolded herself, slapping her own cheeks. “It’s just dinner. Not a date. Nope. Nada. Nothing. He doesn’t even like you like that. You’re just some girl he’s stuck with. It’s not like he—”

She paused.

“Unless... he does?”

Before she could spiral too far, her phone began to ring. Cameron.

Paloma groaned. “Nope.”

The phone rang again. And again. And again.

She snatched it up.

“What, Cameron?”

His voice came through, annoyingly smug. “So the cafeteria queen finally answers! I saw what you did—legendary. You’re going viral. You’re like, almost cool now. Like me.”

Paloma rolled her eyes. “We agreed—only call for project stuff. Not dumbass ego trips.”

He chuckled. “Relax. I just wanted to say I now see you as an equal. Not every day a dork gets internet clout.”

She didn’t dignify that with a response. “Bye, Cameron.” Click.

Back to business.

As she opened Pinterest again, a picture of a floral, strapless, flared gown popped up.

“Wait... I have that,” she gasped.

She bolted to her closet, rummaging wildly until she pulled out the soft flower-print dress. It was handless, light, and flirty—sweet, but definitely more grown-up. She paired it with a cropped white sweater, her white trainers, and threw on light makeup with a pair of hoop earrings and a silver bracelet.

Once ready, she took a mirror selfie, posing just enough to show off her look.

Sent to: Kenya.

Kenya replied in seconds:

SLAYYYY!!!who is sheee? HAVE FUN!!

Paloma grinned, clutching her purse.

“I will.”

Downstairs, Seojin waited in the garage, leaning against his sleek black BMW. He wore a soft grey button-down, sleeves rolled, and a dark watch glinting against his wrist. When she stepped into view, the garage lights lit her from behind like a spotlight.

Seojin looked up.

And froze.

Paloma gave a shy wave. “I’m ready.”

His lips parted slightly before he masked the surprise. “You look... different.”

She swallowed. “Is that a good difference?”

Instead of answering, he walked to her and gently took off his jacket, tossing it over her lap as she sat in the car.

“That dress is short.”

She blinked. “Oh. Sorry… I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t need to apologize.” His voice was formal. Careful. “You look fine. Just… don’t wear that in front of other men.”

Paloma stared at her hands in her lap. So formal. So cold. She thought dressing up would impress him. Make him see her differently. Make him realize she wasn’t a little girl.

But now she just felt stupid.

“Noted,” she murmured. “Won’t happen again.”

The rest of the drive was quiet. She looked out the window, trying to hide the disappointment swimming in her chest.

What she didn’t see was the way Seojin kept glancing her way. His knuckles tightened on the wheel. His jaw clenched. And for the first time since she moved in…

He realized:

She wasn’t a child. Not anymore.

And he didn’t like the way it made him feel.

Not one bit.

...

Paloma sat quietly in the passenger seat of Seojin’s car, hands folded tightly on her lap. Her dress was too short, apparently. Her effort was too much. He hadn’t even smiled when she stepped out the door, just threw his jacket over her thighs and told her it was “too short.”

Now she was sitting beside him, the silence between them so loud she could barely breathe.

She stared out the window, her mood deflating by the second.

Why did I try so hard? He doesn’t even see me… not really.

Seojin hadn’t said a word the whole drive, but he kept glancing at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. He noticed everything—the way her shoulders rose when she was anxious, the way her nails tapped lightly against her purse. She wasn’t speaking. That wasn’t like her.

He pulled into the restaurant parking lot and killed the engine. Still no words.

Paloma finally turned to him, voice barely above a whisper. “I thought you’d at least say I looked nice... without making me feel like I broke a rule.”

That got him. His eyes snapped to hers. There was a long pause before he finally said something, and when he did, his voice was low—too low.

“You do look nice. You look… incredible, Paloma.”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“I just didn’t expect it,” he added. “And I hated it.”

Her stomach twisted. “You hated it?”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Not because you don’t look good. You look too good. That’s the problem.”

Paloma frowned, confused. “I don’t get it. If I look good, then why—”

“Because I don’t want any man looking at you like that,” he cut in, finally meeting her gaze.

Her breath hitched.

“I don’t want anyone seeing what I saw when you stepped out that door,” he continued, his tone darkening. “I know I shouldn’t say that, but I don’t care right now.”

Paloma’s lips parted. Her heart raced. “Seojin…”

He looked away, jaw clenched. “Let’s go inside before I say more.”

Inside the Restaurant

The restaurant was cozy and softly lit, with booths that gave off a sense of privacy. A waiter led them to a quiet corner and handed them menus.

Paloma’s fingers trembled as she opened hers. She could still feel the weight of his words pressing on her skin.

He didn’t want any man looking at her?

Her face burned, but inside, something bloomed. A secret thrill.

They placed their orders. Paloma went for creamy chicken pasta. Seojin asked for grilled steak.

When the waiter walked away, she looked up. “You didn’t have to say that. About… other men.”

“I know,” he said simply, not denying it.

Paloma stirred her water with the straw, voice a little shaky. “So… is this a date?”

Seojin didn’t answer right away. Instead, he watched her, then leaned forward slowly.

“I don’t know what this is yet,” he admitted. “But I do know that tonight, I only wanted to be with you.”

Paloma bit her lip, trying not to smile. “I wanted to be with you too.”

He smiled softly at that. “Then let’s just enjoy it.”

And just like that, the awkward tension melted into something warmer.

Paloma let herself relax for the first time that night. She didn’t know what this was. But she was here. With him. And for now, that was more than enough.

…

When they got home, Paloma stepped into the living room first, the soft click of her shoes echoing off the floor. She bent down to untie her laces, unaware that the action slightly lifted the back of her cropped sweater, revealing a sliver of her smooth lower back that was designed by the net of the dress.

Seojin glanced her way—and froze.

He quickly cleared his throat and looked away, jaw tightening. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me, he thought, clenching his fists subtly.

Paloma finally stood up straight and stretched, her voice light and sincere.

“Thanks for dinner. I really had fun.”

Seojin smiled softly. “No problem. We should do it more often.”

Her face lit up like a child offered candy. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Without thinking, she stepped forward and hugged him tightly, catching him completely off guard.

He let out a surprised chuckle but hugged her back gently. Her hair smelled faintly of strawberries.

“Remember when we were kids?” she asked, her voice muffled in his shirt. “You used to carry me on your neck and take me around the house when I cried?”

He let out a deep laugh. “Of course I remember. You’d scream ‘higher, Seojin!’ like it was a roller coaster.”

She laughed too, her chest rumbling against his. Then he gently pulled away, clearing his throat.

“It’s getting late. You should get some sleep. Tomorrow’s Friday—long lectures await.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, stepping back toward her room.

“By the way,” he added, glancing at her with mock sternness, “I want my shirt back.”

She grinned mischievously. “Not a chance.”

His brow arched. “If you don’t return it, I’ll have to punish you.”

Her cheeks instantly flushed. Her mind went straight into the gutter, and she cleared her throat.

“Um… w-what kind of punishment?”

He smirked, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Who knows?”

Seeing the flustered panic in her face, he burst into quiet laughter. “You have such a dirty mind.”

She gasped, immediately defensive. “What?! I do not!”

“Oh, you definitely do,” he teased, leaning lazily against the wall.

“I—ugh!” she huffed, folding her arms, but a smile pulled at her lips despite her embarrassment.

There was a beat of silence. Their eyes met—hers wide, sparkling with affection and curiosity. His gaze was soft but intense, protective and cautious.

Slowly, almost unconsciously, he lifted his hand and tilted her chin up with two fingers. Her breath hitched. Her lips parted just slightly.

Neither of them moved closer. The air between them buzzed, heavy and warm.

He wanted her. God, he wanted her more than anything. But he reminded himself: she was still so young. Still figuring out the world. And they were family friends. Practically family.

With a groan, he tore himself away from her gaze and ruffled her hair roughly, making her squeal.

“Go to sleep, brat,” he muttered, his voice low. “Goodnight.”

She blinked, dazed, then nodded. “Goodnight.”

They both turned in opposite directions, hearts pounding, minds racing with unspoken thoughts.

And neither of them could sleep easily that night.