Love Me Like You Shouldn't cover

Love Me Like You Shouldn't

4.06 Goodreads
(352 ratings)

Why You'll Love This

A therapist falling for her client is textbook wrong — and Harper Bliss makes you root for it anyway.

  • Great if you want: forbidden sapphic romance with real ethical stakes on the line
  • The experience: slow-burn tension that builds through charged, intimate conversations
  • The writing: Bliss writes interiority well — Nic's self-justifications feel painfully human
  • Skip if: professional boundary violations are a hard stop for you

About This Book

Some boundaries exist for good reason. Dr. Nicola Forbes knows this better than anyone — she's a therapist, and Avery Hall is her client, a Hollywood star navigating the particular pressures of queer celebrity. What starts as carefully managed sessions becomes something neither woman can contain: a slow, charged unraveling that puts Nic's career, her license, and her carefully reconstructed life after grief directly in the line of fire. Harper Bliss doesn't soften the stakes or pretend the ethics are complicated only in theory. The tension here is real, and so is the cost.

What distinguishes this as a reading experience is Bliss's restraint. The prose is clean and emotionally precise, doing the work in subtext rather than declaration — a glance held a beat too long, a session that ends with something unsaid. Bliss has always been skilled at writing desire that feels earned rather than convenient, and this novel is among her more psychologically grounded work. At 249 pages, it moves efficiently without feeling rushed, and the dual interiority gives both women enough complexity to make readers genuinely uncertain who to root for — or whether rooting for either of them is wise.