Carter burst into another laugh. “Well, I can assure you I am not a fan of feet. But I do want to make sure they’re healing okay—feet can get infected really easily.”
 
 I knew that because Dylan had told me repeatedly, “If you develop an infection, Asher’s definitely going to jab you with a needle full of antibiotics.”
 
 I grimaced. “I don’t want that.”
 
 “In that case, give me your feet,” Carter said, wiggling his fingers in a “come here” motion.
 
 I turned so I was facing him, placing my feet in his lap. He quickly pinched the end of the fluffy socks, pulling them off in one swift motion.
 
 “That’s cold!” I whined.
 
 “Well, unfortunately, it is what it is,” Carter said with a shrug, gently picking up one of my feet and inspecting it closely. I had taken off the majority of the bandages days ago, and now I just had a few plasters. Carter inspected all of them carefully and nodded, so I assumed it was going well.
 
 “Judging by the fact that you don’t look horrified, I’d say I’m in the clear?” I asked hopefully.
 
 Carter nodded. “Actually, yeah, it looks like they’re healing really well. Are you in any pain?”
 
 I tilted my head. “A little bit, but it’s completely manageable. I’m used to being in a certain level of pain.”
 
 Carter’s face darkened at my words. “You shouldn’t be in pain,” he said, frowning.
 
 I shook my head. “I’m really not,” I replied, “honestly. Compared to what I’m used to, I’m on vacation.”
 
 Carter didn't like that, either. “You never should’ve been in a situation where you were in that kind of pain.”
 
 “No, I shouldn’t have. But, unfortunately, it happened. Now, I just need to focus on getting back home. And once I’m back home, I’ll be getting a boatload of therapy.”
 
 “Aboatload?” Carter asked, raising an eyebrow.
 
 “Yep.” I agreed. “It’s going to be a boatload or a fuck ton, I’m not sure which, but it’s going to be a lot of therapy. I mean, after being locked in a basement for several years, a girl needs a bit of therapy. Actually, everyone could benefit from therapy. Hell, I’m pretty sure Dylan could probably benefit from a bit of therapy, you could benefit, all of you guys could benefit from some sort of therapy," I said, wiggling my toes in his face.
 
 Carter’s hand was warm on my foot, and I shouldn’t have been enjoying it so much. When he started pressing his thumb into the arch of my foot, a positively ungodly groan left my mouth.
 
 “Holy fuck,” I said, “that feels far too good.”
 
 “Want me to stop?” he teased.
 
 “Don’t you dare,” I told him, narrowing my eyes. “If you stop, I will hurt you. You can’t just offer a foot rub to a girl and start rubbing her feet, and then back away. That is mean, murder-worthy, even.”
 
 I was babbling, and I knew it, but Carter was smiling as I spoke, so I knew I wasn't being too embarrassing. He resumed rubbing my feet, and I leaned back, letting myself enjoy it. We were developing a closeness that I didn't seem to mind so much.Despite only being here a short period of time, I found myself actually welcoming their company.
 
 “You’re not so bad,” I murmured, closing my eyes and tilting my head back, enjoying what I was feeling.
 
 “Oh? Is that all it takes to get on your good side?” He chuckled. “Foot rubs?”
 
 I nodded. “Foot rubs and food are the way to any omega’s heart.”
 
 “Don’t forget blankets,” Carter interjected.
 
 “Oh, that’s a good one,” I agreed. “Also blankets.”
 
 I don’t know how long we sat outside for, Carter rubbing my feet as I watched the trees, their branches swaying lightly. Eventually, the breeze picked up and the weather grew colder.
 
 “You’re freezing,” he said. “You should get inside.”
 
 “Nooo,” I whined, “it’s so nice out here.” But the impact of my words were lost a little bit with the fact that my teeth were starting to chatter.
 
 Carter gave me a firm look. “In. Now.”
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 