Page 32 of Curvy Desire's Second Shot

Her shoulders tensed slightly, and I regretted bringing it up, but she surprised me by speaking first.

“I didn’t want to leave,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But at the time, I thought it was the only choice I had.”

I turned to her, my chest tightening at the vulnerability in her voice. “You could’ve told me.”

“I know,” she said, meeting my gaze. “And I’m sorry, Hudson. I didn’t think you’d understand.”

“I would’ve,” I said, my voice firm. “Maybe not perfectly, but I would’ve tried.”

She looked away, her fingers toying with the edge of her jacket. “I thought about you a lot. After I left.”

“Yeah?” I asked, my throat tight.

She nodded, her smile faint but real. “You were my best friend, Hudson. You were... everything.”

The words hit me like a freight train, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. She looked at me then, her eyes shining with something I couldn’t quite name, and it felt like the world tilted on its axis.

“You were everything to me too,” I said, my voice rough.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You always knew how to make things sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is simple,” I said, leaning back against the bench. “You and me, here, like this. It feels right.”

She smiled, a real, genuine smile that made my chest ache. “It does.”

The sun climbed higheras we talked, the hours slipping away like water through our fingers. Naomi shared stories of her time away, the places she’d seen, the things she’d learned. I told her about the life I’d built here, the ways I’d tried to move forward without her.

Somewhere along the way, the tension between us melted, replaced by the easy camaraderie we’d had as kids. She laughed at something I said, the sound bright and unrestrained, and the memory hit me like a freight train—she’d always been the one I couldn’t let go of.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Naomi

The creek shimmered under the moonlight, its soft ripples reflecting the stars scattered above. The memory of that summer night was so vivid, it felt like I could reach out and touch it. Sitting here with Hudson now, in the same spot where so much had been left unsaid, the past felt closer than ever.

It wasthe kind of summer night that made you believe the world was endless and full of possibility. The air was warm, carrying the faint scent of honeysuckle, and the only sounds were the distant hum of crickets and the gentle murmur of the creek.

Hudson had shown up at my window that night, his grin mischievous and inviting. I’d barely needed convincing to climb down, my heart racing more from his presence than from the adventure ahead.

“Where are we going?” I’d asked as I climbed onto the back of his bike, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“You’ll see,” he’d said, his voice teasing.

The ride had been exhilarating, the cool breeze tugging at my hair as we sped down empty roads. When we reached the creek, Hudson had jumped off the bike and grabbed a blanket from his backpack. He tossed it onto the grassy bank like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Romantic much?” I teased, folding my arms as I followed him.

He’d laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, because nothing says romance like a blanket covered in dirt.”

I’d rolled my eyes but sat down anyway, stretching out beside him as he leaned back, his arms folded under his head. The sky above was a sea of stars, brighter than I’d ever seen them. It felt like the world had stopped turning, like this moment was ours and ours alone.

“You ever think about leaving?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet.

“Leaving Cedar Hill?” I asked, glancing at him.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the stars. “Yeah. Getting out of here. Doing something... bigger.”

I’d hesitated, unsure how to answer. “Sometimes. I mean, I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know where I’d go.”

---