Page 9 of Curvy Desire's Second Shot

“Not really,” I said finally. “Just... little things. Stuff going missing. Probably me being forgetful.”

His jaw tightened, and he turned to face me fully. “You’re not forgetful.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I think I’d know.”

“Naomi,” he said, his voice low and firm. “If something feels off, it probably is.”

The intensity in his gaze made my chest tighten. Hudson had a way of making me feel both seen and completely unprepared for the weight of his attention.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” I said, trying to brush it off. “It’s probably nothing.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, stepping away from the window and into the kitchen. He moved like he belonged there, opening cabinets and pulling out a glass of water as if it were second nature.

Watching him, my frustration bubbled to the surface. He was here, in my space, acting like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t kissed me, hadn’t set my world spinning only to pull away the moment things got real.

“Are you just going to ignore it?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

He froze, the glass in his hand halfway to his lips. “Ignore what?”

“You know what,” I said, stepping closer. “What happened between us. The kiss. The... whatever that was.”

His jaw clenched, and he set the glass down on the counter with deliberate care. “Naomi?—”

“No,” I interrupted, crossing my arms. “You don’t get to brush this off. You kissed me, Hudson. You—” My voice cracked, and I took a breath, trying to steady myself. “You don’t just get to act like nothing’s changed.”

“I’m not acting like nothing’s changed,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But this isn’t the time.”

“When is it ever the time?” I shot back, my frustration spilling over. “You’re always waiting, always holding back. What are you so afraid of?”

He turned to face me, his expression hard but conflicted. “I’m afraid of putting you in danger.”

I stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “What does that even mean? I’m already in danger, Hudson. Whether you’re close to me or not.”

“That’s not the same,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “If something happened to you because of me?—”

“Because of you?” I cut him off, stepping closer. “You’re not making sense.”

“Naomi,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” I said, my voice softer now. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze locked on mine like he was waging an internal battle. Finally, he let out a sharp breath and ran a hand through his hair.

“What happened between us,” I said, my voice trembling slightly, “did it mean anything to you, or was it just... a mistake?”

The words were barely out of my mouth before he turned to face me, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made my breath catch.

Chapter Eight

Hudson

I stared at Naomi, the words she’d just thrown at me echoing in my head. Was it a mistake? Did it mean anything? It was like she didn’t realize the weight of her own question—how much it gutted me that she even had to ask.

Her eyes were wide, searching my face, waiting for an answer. The way she looked at me, so damn vulnerable, made it impossible to hold the line I’d been walking.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” I said, my voice low and rough. “And it meant everything.”

The tension between us was thick, her breath catching as I stepped closer. My pulse pounded in my ears, the gravity of what I was admitting crashing over me. I’d spent years keeping Naomi at a distance, convincing myself it was for the best. But the truth was, I was tired of pretending I didn’t want her.

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