I should have worn something looser.

The waiting room at Cole Medical was cold enough that my nipples had been tight against my bra for the last twenty minutes. Every time I shifted on the leather chair the soft weight of my breasts moved under the thin white blouse I’d chosen, and I caught the receptionist glancing once before looking away. I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to focus on the intake form.

Dr. Adrian Cole.

Even the name on the top of the paper felt heavy. I’d only seen his photo on the clinic website — dark hair, sharp jaw, the kind of controlled eyes that...