“It’s not about saying the right thing,” he said, leaning forward, his gaze locking with mine. “It’s about meaning it.”

The intensity in his eyes made my breath catch. He leaned in slightly, his hand brushing against mine. His touch was warm, steady, grounding. It sent a shiver down my spine.

“Tell me what you want, Naomi,” he whispered, his voice rough, his words filled with something raw and unguarded.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. My chest tightened, my mind racing. What did I want? Did I even know?

The silence stretched between us, thick and charged, as I searched for the words I couldn’t seem to find. Hudson’s gaze didn’t waver, his patience unwavering, waiting for me to answer. But the truth was, I didn’t know if I could. Not yet.

Chapter Sixteen

Hudson

The apartment was dimly lit, the glow from a single lamp in the corner casting soft shadows across the room. Naomi stood near the window, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared out into the darkened street. I watched her from the couch, my chest tightening at the sight of her—strong, stubborn, but carrying more weight than she deserved.

I didn’t know how much more she could take. Hell, I didn’t know how much more I could take. The fear, the constant vigilance, the gnawing frustration of knowing that the danger surrounding us wasn’t something I could just punch away—it was all pressing down on me. But more than anything, it was her. Naomi. Her quiet strength. Her vulnerability. Her goddamn ability to make me feel things I thought I’d buried a long time ago.

“Naomi,” I said softly, breaking the silence.

She turned to me, her eyes wide, guarded. “Yeah?”

“Come here.”

She hesitated, her brow furrowing like she wasn’t sure what I wanted. But then she stepped away from the window and crossed the room, stopping a few feet from where I sat. Close enough that I could feel her presence, but far enough that the space between us felt like a chasm.

“You’re thinking too much,” I said, my voice low.

She let out a soft laugh, the sound tinged with exhaustion. “Can you blame me?”

“No,” I admitted, leaning forward. “But you don’t have to carry it all alone.”

“I’m not alone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I have you.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I stood, closing the distance between us in two strides. I stopped just short of touching her, my hands clenched at my sides as I fought the urge to pull her close.

“Do you?” I asked, my voice rough. “Because sometimes it feels like you’re still trying to keep me out.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders sagging. “It’s not you, Hudson. It’s me.”

“Bullshit,” I said, stepping closer. “You’re scared. I get it. But I’m not going anywhere, Naomi. You need to understand that.”

She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why, Hudson? Why are you so determined to save me?”

“Because I can’t lose you,” I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Because you matter to me in ways I can’t even begin to explain.”

The tension between us snapped like a live wire, and suddenly, she was in my arms. Her hands fisted in my shirt, and I pulled her close, my lips crashing against hers. It wasn’t gentle or careful—it was raw, desperate, and filled with everything we’d been holding back.

Her lips parted, and I deepened the kiss, my hands sliding to her waist, pulling her even closer. She tasted like sweetness and fire, and I couldn’t get enough. Her body pressed against mine, soft and warm, and it set every nerve in my body on fire.

“Hudson,” she whispered against my lips, her voice trembling.

I pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, my breath coming hard and fast. “Tell me to stop.”

She shook her head, her eyes locked on mine. “Don’t.”

That single word undid me. I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the feel of her lips, the way her body fit against mine like it was made to be there. My hands slid under the hem of her shirt, skimming the soft curve of her waist, and she shivered, her nails digging into my shoulders.

We stumbled toward the couch, the world narrowing to just the two of us. I sat down, pulling her onto my lap, her legs straddling mine as our kisses grew deeper, more urgent. My hands roamed her back, her hips, every curve that I’d spent so long pretending I didn’t dream about.