Page 22 of Lassoed Love

There’s a shared understanding that there's only one place in this small town equipped for such celebrations.

Claire gives her a confirming look, and I just roll my eyes.The Loose Lasso it is... again.

Seated at the bar, nursing mysecondwhiskey and coke—unusual for me, especially considering we’d only been here for about half an hour since finishing dinner. I look over to Claire, who is aimlessly scrolling on her phone looking at what looks to be an email. I can’t help but voice my thoughts. “You’ve come here to get away from work and celebrate your promotion, and yet you're sitting on your phone checking work emails,” I tease Claire.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she replies, shutting her phone off and tucking it away into her handbag. Meanwhile, Imogen, standing beside Claire, sways to the rhythm of ‘1, 2 Many’ by Luke Combs, playing softly in the background, creating an upbeat ambiance.

As the night’s bartender approaches, his familiar voice catches me off guard. “Isla? Shit, I haven’t seen you in years! Where’ve you been?” he asks, a smirk tilting his mouth upward.

It takes me a moment to register—David Kent,no way.A fellow high schooler, who was a year below the girls and I.

“David? Wow, I almost didn’t recognise you. You’ve changed so much,” I exclaim, and he laughs. Continuing the conversation, I share, “After school, I moved to the city after Mum died, to study Veterinary Science. I’d just needed a change of scenery.”

His expression softens. “Ah... shit, yeah. Sorry about your mum,” he offers sympathetically.

“No need to be sorry, it was a long time ago,” I reply, though inmy mind, it feels likeyesterday. I muster a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. Sensing my unease, he quickly changes the subject. “Congrats on your studies, though. So, have you been in town for long?”

Grateful for the subject change, I relax slightly. “About just over a month now, almost two. I own the Animal Hospital down near Springbrook Reserve,” I share.

David's eyebrows raise in surprise. “No shit! Wow, so you own that joint now, huh? I thought it’d closed down ages ago.”

“Nope, it’s still open now,” I quip.

“That's good to know, in case I ever need to bring my dog over. The only other nearest vet is about thirty minutes away. This one is more local, much more convenient,” he replies.

Curious, I ask, “Oh, what dog do you have?”

“Oh, Bessie’s an Old English Sheepdog. She’s an old timer, that one,” he laughs, a genuine smile playing across his features.

I can’t help but notice his looks. He exudes that young, boyish appeal—soft features, little to no facial hair, and his light brown hair is shaved close to his scalp, just a tad too short for my liking and a bit too light for that matter, I think to myself.

I prefer a guy’s hair dark, longish, with curls, ideally a tapered cut—like someone in particular, a broodingfarmerperhaps... No,no. What the fuck? No, shut up.

David still carries that baby face he’d sported in high school, just more grown up now.Well, obviously, Isla.

“So, you’re here for good now, then?” He looks me up and down,and I squirm in my seat, feeling a touch insecure under his gaze. Before I can say anything, Claire chimes in, entirely forgetting that the girls had been next to me this whole time, watching this awkward encounter.

“Yes, she is! And she is very, very single.” She winks at David.

“Claire!” I smack her arm, and Imogen giggles from beside her.

“For now, I guess,” I counter, quickly shooting her a look, glancing back at David, who is still watching me intently. He just laughs. He has a nice laugh, not the kind that stirs up butterflies, but one that just makes you smile back. Which is what I do.

“Noted! Nice to see youtwo, as well.” He nods to the girls. “Still stuck together, I see.”

“Yep, like superglue,” Imogen says, now standing between us, hugging both Claire and me together, rocking side to side. I can’t help but shake my head.

“Well, we should definitely get together one day, Isla, when you’re not busy wrangling animals, that is.” He winks.

“Yeah, th-that sounds good.” He watches me, waiting for me to say something else maybe, but I falter, not quite catching on.

“Do you have a pen and paper so she can give you her number?” Claire says from beside me, always the provocateur.

“Yeah, I do. Hold on,” he says, scurrying off to the side to search for the items.

I tsk out loud, “Why’d you say that? Now he’s going to message me wanting to go out.”

“That’s the whole point, dickhead.”

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