More Than Her Doctor

Chapter five...

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains as Seojin stood fully dressed, ready for his day at the university. His dark hair was neatly styled, his white shirt crisp and tucked into tailored trousers. He glanced at his watch, then toward the door.

Paloma slowly stirred awake, blinking against the brightness. She sat up, confusion washing over her as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn’t her room. Then the memories came flooding back—the soft warmth of Seojin’s bed, the way she’d clung to him in her sleep, his gentle kiss on her forehead.

Her cheeks burned a vivid shade of pink. She shook her head quickly, muttering, “Just a dream… just a dream…”

She slipped quietly out of bed and made her way back to her own room. After a refreshing shower, she dressed carefully: a white cropped top, a fitted jacket, a flared skirt, and comfortable trainers. She brushed her hair lightly, still feeling a flutter in her stomach.

Downstairs, the scent of coffee and toast filled the air. Paloma’s heart skipped when she saw Seojin sitting at the kitchen island, calmly eating breakfast. His gaze lifted as she entered, and their eyes met. For a moment, the world around them faded.

“Good morning,” Paloma whispered, her voice a little breathless.

“Morning,” Seojin replied smoothly, his usual composed self. “Hurry up, or we’ll be late.”

She nodded, cheeks still flushed, and moved to the table to eat quickly.

Seojin picked up his keys and jacket. “I’ll drop you outside the school gate,” he said. “We need to keep things... professional.”

Paloma bit her lip, curiosity bubbling inside her. She was about to ask him about last night—about everything—when he stopped her with a raised eyebrow.

“So,” Seojin said, voice teasing, “what were you doing in my room last night? And why are you wearing my shirt?”

Paloma’s blush deepened to crimson. She fumbled for words, her face practically glowing. “I… I fell asleep there. The door was open, and… it smelled like you,” she confessed shyly.

Seojin smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You like my scent?”

“No! I mean—yes? No! I don’t know...” She covered her face with her hands, laughing nervously.

He chuckled softly, then stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

Her heart hammered harder.

“Let’s get going,” he said, grabbing his bag. “You’re going to need all the energy you can get for today.”

As they stepped outside, Paloma stole a quick glance at him—her teacher, her guardian, the man who was quickly becoming the center of her thoughts in ways she couldn’t yet explain.

…

The ride to campus was comfortably quiet, with soft jazz humming through the speakers. Paloma tried not to think about how Seojin’s cologne lingered in the car, or how handsome he looked while driving with one hand on the wheel.

“By the way,” he said, eyes still on the road, “I noticed you and your friend seemed to hit it off yesterday.”

“Kenya?” Paloma smiled. “Yeah, she’s cool. Super sassy and confident. I like her.”

Seojin hummed in acknowledgment. “Good. Just… be careful who you trust. Not everyone has good intentions.”

She looked at him with a raised brow. “Are you always this paranoid?”

He glanced her way with a smirk. “Only when I care.”

Paloma’s breath caught, but before she could say anything back, he pulled up a few blocks from campus. “I’ll pick you up after class. Don’t get in trouble.”

“Who, me?” she said with mock innocence, stepping out of the car. “I’m a perfect angel.”

He scoffed lightly. “Right.”

She waved and headed toward the gates, heart pounding for reasons she didn't dare admit.

…

Paloma spotted Kenya leaning against a tree near the science building, scrolling through her phone.

“Hey, chica!” Paloma called.

Kenya looked up, grinning. “There you are! Thought you bailed on me.”

“I’d never,” Paloma laughed as they linked arms and headed inside.

Their footsteps echoed down the hallway as they chatted about the professors and how cool the labs looked. But as soon as they walked into the Chemistry lecture hall, Paloma’s mood dropped.

Cameron was already there, lounging in his seat like he owned the room.

He looked up with that smug smirk of his. “Oh great, the dork parade.”

Paloma rolled her eyes. “Ignore him,” she muttered to Kenya, taking a seat nearby.

But Cameron leaned back in his chair, clearly not planning to stop. “Didn’t think they allowed kids from kindergarten into uni. Must’ve made an exception for you.”

Kenya’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Why don’t you back the heck off? You’ve got a big mouth for someone with a low GPA.”

“Ooh, feisty,” Cameron said, holding his hands up. “Relax, girls. Just saying hi.”

“No one asked you to,” Paloma snapped, grabbing her notebook.

A moment later, the door opened and their elderly Chemistry professor stepped in, adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat. “Good morning, class. Before we begin, I have news. You’ll be working in semester-long lab pairs. I’ll be assigning them now.”

A collective groan passed through the room.

Paloma and Kenya leaned toward each other, fingers crossed under the table.

“Please, please, please let us be together,” Kenya whispered.

Paloma whispered back, “I swear if I get paired with Cameron, I’m transferring majors.”

The professor began listing names.

“Kenya Ojomo and… Veronica Fielding.”

Kenya's eyes widened. “What?! Who the hell is Veronica?”

Veronica, a quiet girl with braids in a tight bun, gave a small wave. “Hi.”

Paloma squeezed her friend’s hand. “We’ll survive this.”

“And Paloma Reyes…” the professor said, scanning his paper. “You’re with Cameron Blane.”

Paloma froze.

Cameron groaned loudly. “Ugh, are you kidding me? Why do I get stuck with the dork?”

Paloma turned slowly toward him, fire blazing in her chest. “You should be grateful, Blane. I’m smarter than the both of us combined.”

A few people in the class chuckled.

Cameron blinked, caught off guard. “Whoa. Feisty.”

“Better get used to it,” Paloma said, flipping open her notebook and refusing to look at him again.

Kenya leaned over and whispered, “Girl, if he gives you crap, we’ll dump hydrochloric acid in his locker.”

Paloma grinned. “Deal.”

…

Paloma walked briskly through the stone-paved corridor, her folder clutched tightly against her chest. The air was cool and quiet in the massive library, filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves, students hunched over books, and the faint hum of ceiling fans spinning overhead.

Behind her, Cameron trailed lazily, hands in his hoodie pockets and not a single notebook in sight.

“Can you at least pretend to be interested in passing this class?” she snapped, glaring at him over her shoulder.

Cameron grinned. “Relax, princess. Chemistry isn’t that hard. You just mix some stuff, make it bubble, and try not to blow anything up.”

Paloma groaned. “This is why your grades are trash.”

They reached an empty table by the back windows. Sunlight poured through, casting golden streaks across the polished wood. Paloma dumped her folder and sat down, pulling out her textbook, highlighters, and color-coded notes.

Cameron flopped into the chair across from her, stretching out his legs like he was at home. “Wow, look at all this effort. Color-coding. Adorable.”

“Can you stop talking and start writing?” she asked flatly, sliding a printed outline toward him.

Cameron glanced at it like it was written in alien script. “You expect me to read this?”

“Yes, I do,” she said, leaning forward. “Because believe it or not, I don’t want to fail just because I got paired with a clown.”

He smirked. “You think about me that much? I’m flattered.”

Paloma gave him the most exhausted glare she could muster. “I’m this close to getting you replaced.”

“I’d love to see you try. The prof already locked us in. It’s you and me for the rest of the semester, sweetheart.”

Paloma’s jaw clenched. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second, then reopened them with forced calm. “Okay. Let’s be professional. We need to come up with a hypothesis for our experiment. I was thinking something related to chemical reactions and temperature variance.”

Cameron blinked. “Huh?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did you even bring a pen?”

Cameron leaned back with a lazy grin. “Nope. But I brought the charm. Isn’t that enough?”

Paloma let out a frustrated sound that made the nearby student glance over. “You know what? Just… shut up and listen. If we don’t start today, we’ll fall behind.”

Cameron held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. Boss me around, smart girl. You’re kinda cute when you’re mad.”

Paloma threw a crumpled sticky note at his face.

The sun had dipped slightly, casting warm orange glows through the library windows. The two had been working—or rather, Paloma had been working—for over an hour, and Cameron had managed to scribble only a few lazy bullet points on a page.

Paloma slammed her notebook shut. “That’s enough for today. I actually feel my brain cells dying from listening to you.”

Cameron smirked, stretching lazily. “You’re welcome. I’m an experience, not a study partner.”

She rolled her eyes, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stood.

“So…” Cameron began, rising to his feet beside her. “Where are we meeting tomorrow? You coming over to my dorm?”

Paloma snapped her gaze to him, eyes wide. “Absolutely not.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yikes. That was a strong ‘no.’ What, you think I’m gonna seduce you or something?”

She scoffed, disgusted. “You wish.”

He chuckled, then shrugged. “Alright, then your place? You live off-campus, right?”

Paloma blinked—and immediately remembered Seojin. The calm, brooding man probably already home. She pictured his sharp jawline, his serious stare, the way he sipped his coffee in absolute silence. Her heart did a weird skip.

“NO!” she shouted, a bit too loudly.

Several students turned. Cameron flinched.

“Whoa, chill brotha,” he said, laughing awkwardly. “What are you hiding? I have a sister, FYI. Or are you hiding some secret guy in your house?”

Paloma’s cheeks flushed. She looked away and muttered inwardly, Something like that. Except he’s the hottest man on campus. And every girl’s dream. Including mine.

She cleared her throat quickly and turned back to Cameron. “We’ll meet here. Every day. During break time.”

Cameron groaned. “Ugh, seriously? This place? I have friends. I have a social life. I play games, hang out with people—unlike you, lonely-ass dork.”

Paloma glared at him, hands on her hips. “Twelve noon. Tomorrow. Don’t be late. Or I’ll personally have you kicked out of this partnership.”

“Geez, okay, relax, drill sergeant.”

She was already walking away, muttering under her breath. “Jerk.”

Cameron called out after her, “Love you too, partner!”

She didn’t turn back. She just waved a hand dismissively and marched out of the library, her sneakers slapping against the tiles, her face burning with secondhand embarrassment and the secret thrill of knowing she was going home to him.

…

After their frustrating library session, Paloma spotted Kenya by the fountain, scrolling through her phone and sipping iced tea like nothing could ruin her mood. Paloma rushed over, and the moment Kenya saw her, she lit up.

“Girl!” Kenya squealed, throwing her arms around Paloma in a tight hug.

Paloma laughed. “I missed you, you psychopath.”

They pulled back, grinning like two kids who’d just survived a zombie apocalypse.

“So how was it?” Kenya asked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Was Cameron a pain in the ass?”

Paloma rolled her eyes dramatically. “You have no idea. He’s literally the worst. So immature, always teasing, and acts like he’s allergic to hard work.”

Kenya flipped her braids over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. “If he tries anything funny, I will personally bury his head in a pool full of sharks.”

Paloma laughed awkwardly. “Oh my God, girl. That’s insane.”

They both burst out laughing, walking down the steps of the science building, past the fountain, heading toward the main gate porch where students usually gathered before their next class.

Just as they reached the shaded steps, something—or someone—caught their attention.

There, by the corner of the building, stood Seojin.

And he wasn’t alone.

Paloma’s smile froze. Her steps faltered.

Kenya blinked. “Wait… is that Professor Park?”

Paloma nodded stiffly.

A gorgeous woman stood beside him—tall, with deep brown skin that glowed under the afternoon sun, her curvy body hugged in a tight white blouse with cleavage spilling in all the wrong ways. Her long, honey-colored braids bounced as she laughed at something Seojin said.

Paloma stared, dumbfounded.

“What the heck?” Kenya whispered. “Who is that?”

Paloma’s heart dropped to her stomach. Her face felt like it was burning.

Her curves are insane.

That cleavage—doesn’t she know how to button a shirt properly?

Who even is she? What’s Seojin laughing at? What’s so funny?

Seojin turned slightly—his gaze locking on Paloma’s for a split second.

Embarrassed, she turned her face away quickly and grabbed Kenya’s wrist.

“Come on,” she said, voice sharp. “Let’s go.”

Kenya blinked in confusion. “Wait, what? What’s up with you?”

“I have a headache,” Paloma muttered. “Just need to cool off.”

Kenya nodded slowly. “Alright, say less.”

But as they walked away, Paloma’s thoughts wouldn’t settle. She could still see the woman’s smile, the way Seojin’s mouth lifted in response. The way they stood just a little too close.

Why am I so bothered by this? she thought, frustrated. It’s not like we’re dating…

Still, her chest felt heavy. Her mood spiraled.

—

Hours passed.

The sun had dipped completely by the time Paloma climbed into Seojin’s car. He greeted her softly, his eyes warm.

“Hey. How was your day?”

She gave him a cold, one-word answer. “Fine.”

He glanced at her. Her tone was off. She wasn’t smiling. No sarcastic comments. No teasing flick of her eyes.

Something was definitely wrong.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m just hungry,” she lied, her eyes staring blankly out the window.

He didn’t push. He drove the rest of the way in silence, occasionally glancing at her with worry.

When they arrived home, Paloma muttered half-hearted thanks and went straight to her room without even looking at him.

Seojin stood in the hallway, confused and a little hurt.

—

In the kitchen, he sighed and started preparing a quick meal—kimchi fried rice and steamed eggs. As he stirred at the stove, his phone rang.

He checked the screen.

Jane.

He hesitated a moment before picking up.

“Yes,” he said, voice low. “Next week. That’s fine.”

He nodded silently, then ended the call.

From upstairs, Paloma lay face-down on her bed, pillow over her head.

She screamed into it.

“Aghhhhh!”

Why did she feel like this? This burning jealousy. This sickening curiosity. She didn’t even know who Jane was, but the call only added fuel to her spiraling thoughts.

Was he… seeing someone?

Was that her?

Did he lie to her this morning?

Paloma kicked off her skirt and sweater, threw them to the floor, and stomped into the bathroom.

Get over it, Paloma. You don’t have a claim on him.

But why does it feel like someone just stabbed your chest with a hot spoon?

She twisted the faucet open, letting the cold water cool the heat rising in her.

As the steam filled the bathroom, her thoughts drifted back to the woman. Her curves. Her laugh. Seojin’s smile.

Paloma clenched her jaw.

She didn’t know what this feeling was called.

But it was dangerous.

…

Paloma stepped into the shower, letting the warm water run down her skin, trying to rinse away her thoughts along with the soap. Who the hell was that girl? Her mind wouldn’t stop replaying the scene—Seojin standing there, so calm and collected, while Miss Perfect Curves practically giggled beside him.

She groaned and slapped water against her face. “I am not jealous,” she muttered. “I don’t do jealous.”

But the way her chest tightened when she saw them together said otherwise.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Seojin placed the last of the plates on the kitchen island. A soft dish of kimchi pasta and a tray of side vegetables sat neatly beside a chilled glass of iced tea. He looked toward the hallway, half-expecting Paloma to come running down like she usually did. But it was quiet.

Too quiet.

He furrowed his brow, then glanced at his phone again. Jane’s call still rang in his ears—not her words, but the sound of Paloma’s cold voice in the car. It wasn’t like her. At least, not the version he’d come to know over the past few weeks.

Upstairs, Paloma towel-dried her hair and slipped into an oversized hoodie and shorts. She paused by her mirror, noticing the way her cheeks still looked flushed. Ugh. She rolled her eyes at herself and marched down the stairs, determined to act like nothing was wrong.

But the moment she entered the kitchen and saw Seojin—clean-cut in a black shirt and his sleeves rolled up—her heart skipped again. It annoyed her. Everything about him annoyed her right now.

"Food’s ready," he said softly, noticing her presence.

"Thanks," she mumbled, sliding into a stool and avoiding his gaze.

Seojin sat across from her. "You’re being weird."

"I’m fine."

"No. You’re not." He tilted his head, examining her. "You barely looked at me when you got in the car."

Paloma took a big bite of pasta and muttered through her mouthful, "Maybe I was just hungry."

"Paloma."

She looked up finally, meeting his eyes—and the concern in them made her walls wobble. “You were with someone,” she said bluntly.

He blinked. “What?”

“That girl,” she muttered. “At school. With the shiny skin and huge—” she waved her hand vaguely at her own chest, “—everything.”

Seojin blinked again, realization dawning slowly. Then... he chuckled.

Paloma's eyes widened. “You’re laughing?!”

"You’re jealous," he said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I’m not!” she snapped, cheeks blazing.

He raised his hands. "Alright. Alright. She’s just a resident. She shadowed me last year during her internship. That’s it."

Paloma glared at him, unsure whether to believe him or stab her fork into the pasta like it was his heart.

“I didn’t even notice what she looked like, honestly. She asked about one of my patients. It was nothing serious.”

“Didn’t look like nothing serious,” she muttered.

Seojin leaned back, arms folded. “Okay. So even if I was with a girl—hypothetically—why would it matter to you?”

Paloma froze.

Exactly.

Why would it?

Her lips parted but no words came out.

Seojin’s gaze softened. “You don’t have to answer. Just... don’t overthink it. I don’t bring people here. And I’m not seeing anyone.”

She looked away, her heart quietly thudding in her chest. She hated how relieved she felt.

“Eat your food before it gets cold,” he added, standing to grab a napkin and placing it in front of her. As he leaned closer, Paloma caught his scent. God, he always smells so good.

“I’m not jealous,” she mumbled again.

Seojin chuckled and ruffled her still-damp hair. “Sure.”

She shoved his hand away and narrowed her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re bad at lying.”

Paloma stuck her tongue out at him, then quickly focused back on her food to hide her smile.

But deep down, a small flame had started to burn—and no matter how much she tried to deny it, she wanted to be the only girl he smiled at like that.

…

Paloma stomped down the stairs, freshly showered, wrapped in an oversized hoodie and shorts that did nothing to hide the scowl on her face. The scent of food made her stomach growl, but she wasn’t about to act happy. Not when her brain kept playing that same scene over and over—Seojin laughing and talking to Miss Everything-Perfect.

She entered the kitchen and sat at the island without a word. Seojin looked up from the stove.

"You're just in time. Hope you're hungry."

"Starving," she said flatly, not looking at him.

He placed a plate of kimchi pasta in front of her. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Paloma.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, stabbing her fork into the food. “You were with someone earlier.”

Seojin blinked. “I was?”

She shot him a sharp look. “The girl. At school. Curvy. Pretty. She looked like a model with a medical degree.”

A pause.

“Oh,” he said, the realization finally hitting. “That’s Jane.”

Paloma blinked. “Jane?”

“Yeah. She’s a final-year med student. Her parents hired me to tutor her until she finishes her exams. She’s… intense.”

Paloma tried to play it cool, but her fork paused midair. “So… she’s a student?”

“Strictly a student,” Seojin added, reading the storm brewing in her face. “She’s 26. I’ve been tutoring her off and on for a while now. Her family’s loaded and she basically made me promise to help her graduate.”

Paloma scoffed. “Of course she did.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you mad that I’m tutoring someone?”

She stabbed a carrot side-dish with enough force to murder it. “No. Why would I be mad?”

Seojin chuckled. “Then why do you look like you want to fight someone?”

“I don’t,” she said, pouting. “Maybe I’m just tired.”

He leaned against the counter, arms folded. “Or maybe you didn’t like seeing me with another woman.”

She shot him a glare. “I don’t own you.”

“I didn’t say you did,” he said with a soft smirk. “But I’m not blind either. You’ve been sulking since the drive home.”

Paloma huffed and looked away. “You’re imagining things.”

“I’m really not.”

She kept quiet, cheeks slowly tinting pink.

Seojin walked closer and gently placed a hand on her head, ruffling her slightly damp hair. “Relax. Jane’s just someone I have to help graduate. That’s it.”

Paloma looked up at him, a little annoyed by how easily her heart fluttered at the soft gesture. “She looked like she wanted more than tutoring.”

“Well, I don’t,” Seojin said plainly. “I’m not interested in Jane.”

That made her freeze. Slowly, she turned to face him. “You’re not?”

“No,” he said seriously, his voice low but firm. “Not even a little.”

Paloma swallowed and turned back to her food, the corners of her lips twitching despite herself. “Okay. Cool. I wasn’t asking.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Seojin teased.

She stuck her tongue out at him again and muttered, “Whatever.”

As she ate, her mood slowly lifted, though a new question lingered in her chest now.

If he didn’t like Jane… did he like someone else?

And if so, was it possible that someone else could be her?