Page 50 of Lassoed Love

Xavier brings up my dad, and his question about the current situation lingers in the air. I hesitate—my father’s struggles are personal, and the town has already become a breeding ground for rumours.

Sensing my reluctance, he reassures me, “Look… I’m not one to gossip, but you don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.”

Part of me doesn’t want to delve into the details, but another part, perhaps the one drawn to Xavier's comforting presence, contemplates opening up. For some reason, I find myself considering sharing the burden with him.

“Honestly,” I start, “my dad has been going through a tough time. Now that I’m back, I want to be there for him, especially since Mum isn’t around anymore, you know?” How could he possiblyknow, though?

“I’ve missed out on a lot of things, so I guess I'm just making up for lost time—trying to rekindle that connection we once had. It’s been gone for so long, I just hope I’m not too late and can fix it now.”

Xavier listens quietly, respecting my decision to open up. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he responds, “Sounds like a tough situation. Losing someone and then navigating the complexities of astrained relationship. It takes strength to come back and face it all. I admire that.”

His words bring a sense of comfort, a rare understanding that makes me appreciate the genuine connection forming between us. The night sky above, with its countless stars, seems to be silently witnessing the unspoken bond developing during this unconventional little ‘date’.

I blush a little at Xavier's response, appreciating the genuine understanding in his words. “Thanks,” I reply, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

As the conversation takes an unexpected turn towards my ex, Xavier asks, “So, what happened with your ex? You mentioned things didn’t end on the best terms. What did you mean by that?”

As Xavier’s question pierces through the air, I feel a familiar discomfort settling in. Taking a deep breath before offering a concise version of the truth.

“Um, well, in the end, he became too demanding, turned out to be a narcissistic asshole,” I confess, my gaze momentarily shifting to the vast expanse around us. The memories resurface, the weight of a toxic relationship, the slow erosion of self-worth. “Always complaining about my looks and weight,”I mumble softly, quickly brushing it off to say, “Anyway... It’s funny how someone you thought you knew could turn out to be a stranger,” silently hoping Xavier hadn’t caught on to that subtle admission.

But he did.Xavier’s eyes darken, a frown marking his face. “Looks? He complained about your... looks?” he questions, his tone edgedwith a mix of disbelief and anger.

As things start to get tense, I shift in my spot, uncrossing, then crossing my legs again, a feeling of anxiety creeping up my throat, making it hard for me to swallow. I haven’t always been an anxious person. Being with and breaking up with Justin had done that—memories now surfacing on the emotional toll it took on me.

“Uh, it’s just—J-Justin would complain about my weight,” I say, my voice slightly strained, “saying that I needed to be thinner ‘for my health’, especially if we were going to be ‘married’ in front of his family.” I pause, the bitter taste of those words lingering. “But it was always in ways that sounded ‘okay,’ I guess?”

Again,a narcissistic asshole. I shake my head, attempting to dispel the unpleasant memories.

Xavier sits up abruptly, growling so low, “Nothing aboutthatis ‘okay’, Isla.”

I laugh anxiously. “Yeah, I know that now,” my voice soft, fingers fidgeting with the hem of my dress. I do everything to avoid his darkening gaze, but that magnetic pull just makes it so incredibly hard.

I glance at him, watching as he stares, his gaze moving from my eyes down to my mouth, then over to my body. A slight tremor runs through me, inviting goosebumps to prickle my skin. I wrap my arms around myself—a futile attempt to shield against the cool breeze or the intensity of his gaze?

“You, cold?” He frowns, but before I can respond, he’s up, moving around the back seat, pulling out a thick flannel shirt.

“Here, take this,” he says, handing it over.Uh, okay.I wrap the flannel over and around my shoulders, his scent immediately enveloping my senses, the aroma washing over me in the cool breeze. Breathing in the heady scent of his cologne and just him sends me into some weird state of euphoria—it’s so intense. Intoxicating.

Xavier watches me intently, and I look out into the horizon, a moment of silence passing before he breaks it. “You’re nothing like that wanker said you are. You’re perfect.” I inhale, freezing. Perfect? Me?

“Don't be silly,” I reply softly with a scoff, releasing the breath I’d been holding, but he’s not laughing.

His gaze darkens further. “Don’t start that bullshit with me. I’m nothim, Isla. I can appreciate beauty when I see it. That fucker must’ve been blind as a bat not to know what he had in front of him.” He says this while somehow moving closer to me. “I’m telling you, you’re perfect the way you are,” he adds, adjusting my hair tucked underneath the flannel, pulling a strand behind my ear so softly. My breath hitches. Can he really see me that way? After all I’ve been through—do I believe him? Some part of meactuallydoes.

I’m frozen in place as Xavier inches closer, his intense gaze locking onto mine. Uncertainty grips me, and I fidget, not sure where to place my hands in this charged atmosphere. My eyes wander down to his full lips, and an unexpected urge surges within me.Why do I want to kiss him so desperately right now?I should resist.

I remind myself that I'm not seeking a relationship, uncertain if I'm even ready.But who says it has to be anything more than a casualfling?I’m not getting any younger. Shaking off these conflicting thoughts, I become acutely aware that I'm now moving closer to him, drawn in by an invisible force.

“Stop looking at me like that, Isla,” he interrupts my thoughts, his commanding presence towering over me.

“L-like what?” I play coy, trying to deflect.

“Like you want me to kiss you. Be careful, princess. I’m afraid I won't be able to stop once I start this time.” Oh,shit. Despite the warning, a newfound courage takes hold.

“What if I want you to?” I whisper, testing the waters.

“Want me to what? Use your words, Isla,” he growls, intensifying the friction.Fuck me.

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