Y/N had always been meticulous about her health, but life had gotten busy. It was time for a full, top-to-bottom check-up—eyes, ears, teeth, the whole works. A quick search for highly-rated private practitioners led her to a sleek, modern clinic with a name that sounded more like a luxury brand than a medical office: Cameron Wellness. The reviews were stellar, mentioning unparalleled attention to detail. She booked an appointment for a comprehensive physical, not bothering to look up the doctor. A name was just a name.

The clinic was all cool marble and soft lighting, more spa than surgery. After a brief wait in a serene waiting room, a nurse led her to an examination room. “Dr. Cameron will be with you shortly,” she said with a polite smile.

Y/N sat on the edge of the exam table, fiddling with the paper gown. The door opened, and her brain short-circuited.

This was not the grey-haired, bespectacled physician she’d vaguely imagined. Dr. Rafe Cameron looked like he’d walked off the set of an action movie and into a lab coat. The white coat was open over a fitted black t-shirt that did nothing to hide the defined muscles of his chest and arms. Intricate tattoos peeked out from under his sleeves and collar. His hair was perfectly tousled, and his eyes, a startling shade of blue, locked onto her with an intensity that felt more like a spotlight than a glance.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice a low, smooth baritone. A slow, easy smile spread across his face as he looked her over, not clinically, but appreciatively. “I’m Dr. Cameron. Please, lie back.”

The check-up began, but it was unlike any medical exam she’d ever had.

“So, let’s start with some basics,” Rafe said, pulling up a stool so close his knees almost brushed the table. He shone a penlight into her eyes. “Pupils are reactive, beautiful color.” He didn’t move the light away immediately, his gaze holding hers. “Any blurred vision? Especially when looking at particularly distracting things?”

Y/N swallowed. “N-no. All clear.”

“Good.” He moved to her ears, his fingers gently brushing her hair back. His touch was warm, deliberate. The otoscope went in. “Eardrums look perfect. Hear everything clearly? Like, say, if someone were to ask for your phone number?”

She almost jerked her head. “Excuse me?”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “Just a general question about auditory health. But since we’re on the topic…” He set the otoscope down and picked up his tablet, but his eyes were on her. “Relationship status? It’s relevant for stress levels, you understand. Major factor.”

“I’m… single,” she managed, feeling her face heat up.

“Excellent. Low stress, then.” His smile was pure wolf. He noted something on the tablet. “And the phone number? For the clinic’s records, of course. We like to do thorough follow-ups.”

In a daze, she recited it. He typed it in, his thumbs moving slowly over the screen.

The flirting was relentless, woven into every step. Checking her blood pressure, his fingers lingering on her wrist. “Heart rate’s a little elevated. Nerves, or… something else?” Listening to her lungs with a stethoscope, his head tilted close. “Breathe deep for me. That’s it. You know, you have a really captivating scent. Not clinical at all.”

When he asked her to say “ahh” to examine her throat and tongue, he leaned in so close she could see the flecks of grey in his blue eyes. “Tongue looks healthy. Very articulate. I bet you have a great laugh.” He winked before straightening up.

The dental check was the worst—or the best. He stood in front of her, one hand gently cradling her jaw. “Perfect teeth. No cavities. Smile for me?” She gave a weak smile. “Stunning. Absolutely devastating.”

He finished the physical exam, his hands competent but his commentary utterly unprofessional. As he helped her sit up, his hand stayed on her back, a steady, warm pressure.

“Everything looks phenomenal,” Rafe said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “Top percentile health. But you know, preventative care is key. I’d really recommend a follow-up. Soon.”

He hadn’t moved away.