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“O—Okay, thank you, I appreciate it.”

I feel the chill of his absence immediately after he stands from the bed. I was going to ask whether I could take a shower or not,but now I don’t want to just yet. I want to have his scent on my skin for as long as possible.

When he returns, he gestures for me to sit at the edge of the bed. He kneels at my feet and I feel the same warm flutters return with a vengeance. I wonder what it would feel like to have him kneeling in front of me doing something other than changing my bandages.

My cheeks feel fiery hot all over again. What in the world is going on with my brain right now? I’ve never ever thought this way.

The last time Archer changed my bandages, I was a bit too overwhelmed with all the things he was telling me about my place as an omega being nothing like what I’d been told growing up.

Now there’s none of that.

My existential crisis right now is a bit different.

After that first kiss with Kane last night and how much I liked it, I’ve seemingly opened the floodgates of the possibilities of what physical touch with my alphas could look like.

My alphas.

For the first time since I’ve gotten here, the thought of calling themmyalphas doesn’t seem blatantly wrong.

“I can feel you thinking again,” Kane says. He seems familiar with all the supplies as he opens up the first aid kit.

“I—Can you really feel me thinking?” I stutter.

“No, not technically,” he chuckles. “But you do get this furrow right here.” He gently taps the place between my eyebrows. “It’s quite cute.”

“You call me cute a lot.”

“It’s the truth.” He says, finishing his prep with all the supplies. “This is going to sting.”

I nod, reaching down to grip his shoulder. The physical contact with him seems to soothe something inside of me.

I don’t know whether the contact genuinely made thingsbetter or whether it’s just because they’ve healed a bit more, but it definitely makes things easier.

He takes a bit more time to rub in the antiseptic cream, working his way up my legs and looking up at me with a mischievous twinkle in his eye like he read my mind earlier when he first got down on his knees in front of me.

“Can you read my mind?” I blurt out.

He bursts out laughing. “No, little one, I can’t read your mind.”

“It really feels like you can sometimes,” I grumble.

“I mean, you are easy to read. You’re not that good at hiding your feelings.”

“So you can read my mind!”

“No,” he says, leaning in, his hand a lot higher on my thigh than any of them have ventured before. “But you’re forgetting that your perfume telegraphs a lot of your emotions. It was pretty easy to piece together what you were thinking when I went down on my knees in front of you and your perfume got so sweet I wanted a taste.”

I cover my face with my hands.

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

He reaches up, tugging gently on my wrist. “This really isn’t something you have to be embarrassed about. It’s just your body’s natural reaction. No shame necessary.”

That’s easier said than done.

“I—I don’t know about that.”

“Okay, baby steps then.” He finishes applying the antiseptic cream and starts applying new bandages. “I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen.”