Page 11 of Curvy Desire's Second Shot

Chapter Nine

Naomi

Hudson’s apartment felt impossibly smaller than I remembered. Maybe it was because now, every glance, every moment of silence between us seemed heavier, charged with an energy I couldn’t define. Being here wasn’t part of the plan, but Hudson didn’t give me much of a choice. And deep down, I knew he was right—I wasn’t safe at my place. Not anymore.

I set my duffel bag on the couch and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The faint scent of cedar and leather that always seemed to cling to Hudson surrounded me, making it harder to think clearly. Every move he made seemed deliberate, his presence filling the space even when he wasn’t in the room.

“You okay?” His voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to see him leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. He looked calm, composed, but his sharp eyes betrayed the storm simmering beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding quickly. “Just... adjusting.”

He studied me for a moment, like he was deciding whether or not to believe me. “You can take the bed. I’ll crash on the couch.”

“Hudson, you don’t have to do that?—”

“I’m not debating this,” he said, cutting me off. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was firm, final.

I huffed and crossed my arms, annoyed but unwilling to push the issue further. “Fine. But if you wake up with a stiff neck, don’t blame me.”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and the sight of it made my chest tighten. Damn him for looking so good even when he was being infuriating.

“Fair enough,” he said, pushing off the doorway. “There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Make yourself at home.”

With that, he walked into the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I glanced around the apartment, taking in the space. It was so... him. Simple, functional, no unnecessary frills. A dark leather couch dominated the living room, a neatly folded blanket draped over the back. The walls were bare except for a single photo on the bookshelf—a younger Hudson standing next to an older man who had the same sharp eyes and strong jawline. His dad, maybe?

Shaking off the curiosity, I unpacked my bag and tried to settle in. But the quiet of the apartment only made it harder to ignore the growing tension between us. Every glance, every brush of his hand against mine felt like a spark, igniting something I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

The hours stretchedinto the evening, and the tension didn’t ease. I kept myself busy as best as I could—organizing my things, cleaning up the kitchen, anything to avoid sitting in awkward silence. But eventually, there was nothing left to do. Hudson was at the table, staring at his laptop, his jaw set in concentration.I sat across from him, pretending to scroll through my phone, though my mind was racing.

I couldn’t keep avoiding the subject forever. The truth was, the break-in wasn’t the first unsettling thing to happen since I’d come back to Cedar Hill. It wasn’t even the worst. And now, with everything piling up, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was connected to something I’d left behind—a part of my past I hadn’t told Hudson about.

Clearing my throat, I set my phone down and leaned forward. “Hudson?”

His eyes lifted from the screen, his brows furrowing slightly. “Yeah?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.” My voice came out steadier than I expected, but my heart was pounding.

He closed the laptop, giving me his full attention. “I’m listening.”

I hesitated, the weight of my words pressing down on me. This wasn’t something I wanted to revisit, but I didn’t have a choice. Not anymore.

“When I left Cedar Hill,” I began, my hands twisting in my lap, “it wasn’t just because I needed a fresh start. I was... running away.”

Hudson didn’t interrupt, but his expression shifted slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face.

“There was someone,” I continued, my voice quieter now. “A guy I was seeing. At first, he was charming, sweet. But then he became... possessive. Controlling.”

Hudson’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists on the table, but he stayed silent, waiting for me to finish.

“I broke it off, but he didn’t take it well. He started showing up everywhere I went—work, the grocery store, even my apartment. I filed a restraining order, but by the time it went through, I’d had enough. That’s when I decided to leave.”

“Naomi,” Hudson said, his voice low, steady. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrugged helplessly. “What would you have done? You had your own life, your own problems. I didn’t want to drag you into mine.”

His gaze darkened, his fists clenching tighter. “I would have been there for you. You didn’t have to go through that alone.”

The raw emotion in his voice caught me off guard, and I swallowed hard. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

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