You sit at the table, wondering where Krissy could be—until you finally call her. When she answers, there’s a shuffle, a muffled giggle, and then a breathy, startled “Oh—hey!” as if she’s just realized she was supposed to be somewhere else. The noises in the background, and the way she hurriedly whispers an apology make it obvious what she was up to, sending a rush of heat through your veins. When she finally arrives, clothes slightly undone and a guilty look in her eyes, she hesitates before confessing—she has a problem, an addiction, and sometimes, she finds it impossible to hold back, especially when it comes to certain patients. The way she looks at you when she says it makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, the air between you feels dangerously charged.