Logan

I understood him. In part because he and I were so similar.

Not that I was going to tell him about all of that.

I was the therapist, and he was my patient. My past was strictly off the table.

But then again, so was sex. Yet here we were, tangled together in the middle of my kitchen.

This could ruin me, but I couldn’t seem to keep things strictly professional.

And Logan wasn’t exactly helping matters.