The question shouldn’t hit me this hard. Carter isn’t just asking, he’s bracing himself for my answer, for what it might mean, for what it could do to whatever the hell is happening between us. I could lie, that I don’t know how I feel, that I’m too tired to process anything. But instead I tell him the truth. “No, Carter,” I murmur, my voice soft, steady, completely certain. “I don’t regret it.”

Carter’s relief is instant, flashing across his face the second the words leave my lips, his shoulders losing that slight tension, his hands relaxing at his sides.

And I could leave it at that. I could let this moment sit, let it settle, let it be enough. Instead, I ask him the same question. “What about you?” My voice is quieter now, steadier, my heart thudding in my chest as I hold his gaze. “Do you regret tonight?”

His answer comes faster than I expect, with zero hesitation, zero doubt. “No.”

It’s firm, certain, like it wasn’t even a question to begin with. “Not even a little bit, now come here,” he murmurs, his fingers skimming my sides, guiding me toward the water.

He helps me step in, the hot water cascading down my sore body, steam curling around us. His hands are on me, soft, gentle. He washes every inch of me, his fingers tracing over my arms, down my back, across my stomach, his touch lingering over my thighs, my hips, his thumb skimming the bruises he left. His searching mine, making sure I’m okay, making sure he didn’t go too far, making sure I don’t regret any of it. I don’t. I never fucking will. By the time he’s done, I’m clean, warm, my body still aching but somehow lighter, softer, safer.

He doesn’t rush me He lets me take my time, lets me stay under the water as long as I need before finally stepping out, grabbing a towel, and wrapping it around me.

I follow him to his room, my body still exhausted, still completely spent. When he hands me a pair of sweats and a hoodie, his hoodie I take it without hesitation, slipping it over my head, inhaling the scent of him, letting it wrap around me like a second skin.

He watches me for a moment, his lips parting like he wants to say something but doesn’t know if he should. And then his voice drops, soft, almost nervous. “Are you… staying?

And the answer is so obvious it almost makes me laugh. Instead, I just nod.