Milo loves sex, parties and alcohol. He adores the thrill of being young, wild and mateless.
He has witnessed his family and friends find their mates, settling down and living happily ever after. But this has never appealed to Milo. He wants to be...
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♥
I finally plucked up the courage to visit the therapist to discuss my sex addiction. After my discussion with Everett and his encouragement to help myself get better, a reason for Nate to forgive me and to prove that I want to change. It isn't until now that I realised how bad it really is.
Despite meeting Nate, my urges for sex are still strong.
But that's the one thing I've told myself–no more meaningless sex with people I don't care about–not now that I know Nate. I don't want to hurt him anymore and this means I need help to cure my addiction, to stop with the pity shags because I'm feeling lonely.
I have to change, I have to get better to prove to Nate that I can be the mate that he wants. That he can trust. Without trust it will never work and I will go to the ends of this earth and beyond to fix what I have caused, even by treating myself.
That is the first step. Even though I am a nervous wreck and I feel like I'm seconds from throwing up at the thought of having to discuss my issues and work through my problems.
"Milo?"
I glance up to find a woman with black curly wild hair over her shoulders. I pause for a moment. This is happening. This is really happening. The first hurdle.
"Hi," I loiter in the hall.
She offers me a warm smile, stepping closer to expose her long dark blue gown with a black shawl over her shoulders. "Hi, I'm Layla. Would you like to come in?"
The lead pack doctor assigned Layla to me because he thought that she would be the best person to help me through my addiction and other anxiety issues.
"Sure," I nod hesitantly but don't step closer.
Layla smiles back at me and waits patiently until I press off my foot and walk towards the room. She steps out of the way so that I can get by, my eyes dart across the modern yet peaceful room. There is a soft incense burner in the corner of the room with a few plants that hang from the ceilings and drape from shelves.
"Take a seat," she says warmly gesturing to the inviting material chair.
I note that the chair isn't leather. Something I usually associate with coldness and discomfort. So I walk towards the seat and sit down, perching on the edge. I try to control my breathing and focus on the coffee table between the chairs with a stack of relaxation magazines and books. One that is in fact called 'happy'. Original. At least the room feels welcoming to say the least.
"So, Milo," she places herself on the opposite chair gracefully, locking one knee over the other and clasping her hands over the top. "Tell me why you've come here today."
I flick my eyes between hers and swallow the lump in my throat. "Because–" I start, feeling my mouth becoming dry like an industrial paint stripper. "Because–"
