Page 40 of Curvy Desire's Second Shot

The afternoon passedin a blur of warm conversation and easy laughter. Naomi seemed lighter, her usual walls crumbling as we slipped into the kind of banter that used to come so easily. She teased me about my terrible taste in movies, and I teased her about her overly detailed coffee orders.

“Seriously,” I said, shaking my head as she listed off her preferences to Mrs. Carter. “How do you even remember all that?”

“It’s not that complicated,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And besides, I like what I like.”

“Clearly,” I said, smirking.

She stuck her tongue out at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. The sound felt foreign at first, like I’d forgotten how to enjoy something so simple. But with Naomi, it was easy.

As the sundipped lower in the sky, casting golden light through the windows, I found myself thinking about all the moments we’d missed. The years we’d spent apart felt heavier now, the weight of what could have been pressing against my chest.

“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t left?” I asked suddenly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Naomi stilled, her fingers pausing on the edge of her cup. “Sometimes,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “But I don’t think it’s fair to wonder.”

“Why not?” I asked, my gaze steady on her.

She shrugged, looking down. “Because it doesn’t change anything. I left. And we’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“Maybe,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “But I still think about it.”

She looked up at me then, her eyes searching mine. “You do?”

“All the time,” I said, my voice low. “Even after all these years, you’re still the one I think about.”

For a moment, I thought she might look away, retreat into her usual defenses. But this time, she didn’t. She held my gaze, and in that moment, it felt like we were finally on the same page, finally ready to let the past give way to something new.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Naomi

The apartment was dimly lit, the glow of the single lamp casting soft shadows across the walls. The evening had been perfect—unexpectedly so. Hudson had brought me back to my favorite café, surprising me with memories I hadn’t realized I needed to revisit. It felt like a piece of my past had been returned to me, but more importantly, it felt like Hudson was showing me a future I wasn’t sure I deserved.

Now, as I stood in the small living room, my heart was pounding for an entirely different reason. Hudson was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed as he watched me. The tension between us was electric, charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

“Thank you,” I said softly, breaking the silence.

“For what?” he asked, his voice low and steady.

“For today,” I said, stepping closer. “For reminding me of what I’d forgotten.”

His lips curved into a small smile, but his eyes remained serious, searching mine. “You didn’t forget, Naomi. You just needed someone to show you it was still there.”

His words hit me in a way I wasn’t prepared for, and I looked away, suddenly unsure of myself. “You always know what to say.”

“Only when it comes to you,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “You make it easy.”

The heat in his tone made my breath hitch, and when I looked back at him, the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. He pushed off the counter, closing the distance between us in a few long strides, and before I could think, he was standing inches away.

“Naomi,” he said, his voice rough. “Tell me what you want.”

My lips parted, but no words came out. The truth was, I didn’t know how to say it—not in a way that would capture everything I felt. Instead, I let my actions speak for me. I reached up, my fingers curling around the front of his shirt, and pulled him down into a kiss.

The moment our lips met, it was like a dam breaking. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss was fierce, consuming, a clash of everything we’d been holding back for so long. His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer as his body pressed against mine. He was warm, solid, grounding me even as he set me on fire.

“Naomi,” he murmured against my lips, his voice a mix of desperation and need. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I whispered, my hands fisting in his shirt. “I’ve never been more sure.”

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