“Morning, Marissa. Early as always?” Valerie chirped as I entered the clinic. She was by far the best receptionist we’d ever had.

“You know me,” I winked and handed her a Starbucks coffee, which I always picked up for her on my way to work.

“Thank you, dear! You’re the best.”

“Now if only that could help me find a decent man,” I winked at her, repeating an old joke.

“One of these days, hon. One of these days.”

I headed to the room I used for the weekly group for sexual addictions, glancing quickly at the clock. Our session was about to start in twenty minutes, and since I was early, I used the remaining time to check if everything was in place for the meeting, preparing to tackle several topics during our group chat.

I worked as a sexologist at Pathways, a wellness clinic, and beside my regular appointments, I ran a weekly group session, which had the purpose of helping people share openly about their problems and improve their chances of dealing with them. From my experience, people were inspired by other people’s progress. They tended to work harder when they could relate to others like them. Basically, it's easier when we know we’re not alone.

I love my job, and whenever I manage to help my clients deal with their issues, I feel very rewarded. It is truly fulfilling, and there’s nothing I would change about it—even working with the most challenging clients. Those are my favorite, I have to admit. There’s nothing better than helping someone who feels that they can’t change, only to prove them wrong. I believe everyone can heal if they’re willing to do the hard work to make it happen.

Just as I prepared coffee and left the brochures for clients on the tables around the room, the first client, Mrs. E, entered, followed by a few more people.

We made our usual greetings and sat down on the chairs that were placed in the circle, facing each other. I directed my attention to the familiar faces.

“It’s great to see you all here today! I hope you had a good start to your week,” I told them with a smile on my face, which gave them a green light to start chit-chatting.

I’d been working with this group for a couple of months now, and they showed some progress despite the initial setbacks.

Mrs. E, for example, was constantly lying to her husband because she couldn’t control her urge to participate in orgies every once in a while. Needless to say, her marriage was on the rocks. It had been a month since she completely stopped sleeping with other guys, much to her husband’s and my pleasure.

Mr. W was a young guy who had lost his job because he was masturbating at least five times a day. He started his therapy last year, but he quit it a couple of times before his progress started showing, after which he grew determined to continue with his treatment. These days he was managing to keep his job, and I hoped this positive trend would continue.

A minute before the meeting was about to start, a man I’d never seen before entered the room, and our eyes met almost instantly. Everything else faded but him, and my heart picked up speed when I took in his appearance.

He was probably the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. His rugged face was strikingly handsome, complimenting an impeccably-dressed muscular body. His wavy, dark hair made me want to run my fingers through it and see if it really was as soft as it looked.

Everything about him screamed confidence, power, and sexiness, and I found myself unable to look away from him. His dark brown eyes trapped me, making me lose all coherent thought in a moment that seemed like forever.

Finally remembering where we were, I pulled myself out of my daze and approached him. His fragrance reached my nostrils, and I inhaled it a bit greedily, finding it intoxicating.

“Hello. I’m Marissa Ford. Are you here for the sexual addictions group?” I asked, wanting to check if he was at the right place.

His smile was disarming, and my breathing became shallow. “Yes. I’m Daniel Chisolm. It’s nice to meet you.”

Daniel. Even his name was sexy.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Chisolm.”

We shook hands, his strong grip made my stomach flutter. There was something amazingly attractive about his eyes and his piercing gaze made my already quick pulse even faster.

“Please, call me Daniel.” His mellow voice entranced me, and I hoped my face didn’t expose my fascination with him, making sure I kept my professional composure.

“Okay. It’s nice to meet you, Daniel. Please, take a seat.” I pointed at one of the available chairs and stepped aside to let him pass.

As soon as he turned his back on me, I subtly checked him out, finding him even more attractive. Damn. He had the most perfect ass I’d ever seen.

Jesus, Marissa. Who’s the therapist and who’s the client here?

I took my seat and put on my professional smile, scribbling Daniel’s name on the clipboard on my lap. “Okay, everyone. Thank you for coming. This is our weekly group session for sexual addictions, and I’m really glad to see you all here today.”

Everyone either nodded or muttered their hellos, while Daniel remained still and silent. His eyes were on me, and I squirmed in my seat, hoping I didn’t show my nervousness.

I continued with the usual introduction before I let the man on my left tell his story, glad that he was finally sharing. This was his fourth session, and he’d never spoken about this issue until now.

“Um,” he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable talking in front of others like this. “H-hello. I’m Malcolm.”

I gave him an encouraging smile so that he’d feel relaxed enough to speak. I glanced at his name on my clipboard, checking if I remembered it right. “Hello, Malcolm. Thank you for deciding to share your story. We’re here to listen.”

I nodded politely every once in a while as he talked about himself. He was twenty-eight years old, and he couldn’t have stable relationships because he kept cheating on his girlfriends. He felt deep shame and a sense of having no control over his life.

I let my gaze land on Daniel, and my breath hitched in my throat when I found him already looking at me. There was something powerful in his stare that made my heartbeat skyrocket, and once more, I forgot where I was.

“Thank you for listening to my story,” Malcolm said in the end, and I tore my gaze from Daniel to Malcolm.

“Thank you for sharing your story, Malcolm. That was a big step you took today. Being open about our problems is one step closer toward recovery,” I repeated my usual mantra, noticing how calmer he was now that he’d made the hardest step.

The next was a girl in her twenties, who realized she had a problem after her fiancé found her in the middle of a threesome. My attention slowly drifted to Daniel, and our eyes locked again. There was something about him that made me unable to stop looking at him, and I didn’t know how to deal with it at the moment since this was uncharacteristic of me.

Okay. I had to get a grip on myself. He was a client, so any thoughts that led away from our professional relationship were a conflict of interest. I had a job to do here.

However, it was easier said than done. My eyes went to him too many times, and there was no way for me to pay attention to other clients when all I could think about was how sexy he was. I regretted that he was here in this group, and wished we had met under different circumstances. I really had no luck with men! The moment I met someone even remotely good, he had to be a sex addict.

“Thank you, Alyssa, for telling us about your progress. It’s amazing how far you’ve come in such a short period of time.” The short blonde smiled sheepishly at me. I turned to Daniel. “So Daniel. I know this is your first meeting, but would you like to share your story with us?”

Up to now, he was a picture of confidence, but there was a hint of anxiety the moment I addressed him. I half expected him to refuse, but then he nodded and cleared his throat.

“Hi there, I’m Daniel. I saw an ad in the paper for this group, and I decided to try it, so here I am.”

His hands were clenched on his lap—a sign of nervousness—but other than that, he didn’t display anything that would reveal his insecurity. He didn’t shift on his seat or make unnecessary movements like some of the others did.

“Hello, Daniel,” we all said in unison.

“My problem is that I sleep around a lot, but I don’t feel anything. Not one thing.”

His eyes sought mine, and I had to remind myself one more time that he was off-limits. I nodded, signaling to him that he could continue, not failing to notice his hands flexing into fists. He was becoming edgier, but I had to give it to him—his face was completely neutral.

“Mechanically, it all works, but I feel numb, and I keep screwing around just trying to feel something.”

I nodded again, even more drawn to him now that I heard his story. I knew that it was dangerous to think this way, but there was a big part of me that wanted to know more about him.

He talked briefly about changing women too often and his repetitive experiences, but then he stopped in the middle of the sentence, frowning.

“Is everything okay, Daniel?” I asked him, recognizing the signs. He’d reached his limit.

“Yes, it’s just...” His frown deepened and he looked away uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” He abruptly stood up, surprising us all. “Sorry, I made a mistake coming here.”

Without sparing anyone a glance, he left the room, leaving us all in awkward silence.

“Well,” I began, breaking the quiet. “It seems that today’s session was a bit too much for Daniel. That is totally okay,” I added, quick to reassure them. “Not being comfortable about sharing is normal, but we’re here to work on removing our obstacles, despite how big they are.”

Luckily, my pep talk broke the awkwardness made by Daniel’s hasty departure, and we proceeded with the meeting as usual.

I glanced at the door, knowing that Daniel wouldn’t come back but hoping he would. I felt sorry that he’d left like this. I just hoped he would come back, ignoring the part of me that wanted to see him again for reasons that had nothing to do with helping him with his problem.