Page 67 of Lassoed Love

“We’re... we’re just friends,” I think.

“Mhm, we’ll see about that.” She remains unconvinced.

After finishing up in the kitchen, we return to the lounge. It’sdark outside now, and everyone looks to be exhausted. With pull out beds fixed for us, Harrison, Michael, and Bradley having excused himself to his room, it’s just the girls and Xavier left in the room. Mrs. Mitchell had also thoughtfully left out towels for us to use if we needed to shower. After the boys had descended downstairs and Olivia had signed off for the night, Xavier bid us a ‘goodnight,’ his lingering gaze on me eliciting goosebumps across my skin. Imogen caught on to the unspoken tension and whistled softly as Xavier ascended the stairs. I just rolled my eyes, dismissing her teasing.

As Imogen and I had only come here for a swim, we had brought just a clean change of underwear and bra. Olivia had graciously offered spare clothes, which we accepted with thanks, but there was no way Olivia’s clothes were going to fit me. She’s like, tiny, easily a size ten, yet, I accepted them, anyway, out of gratitude. Imogen took her clothes and hopped into the shower on the first floor, with the boys downstairs likely occupying the laundry, as Xavier’s mum had described. That meant I’d have to wait for my turn. Unease stirs within me as I lift up Olivia’s clothes to check if they’ll fit, a sense of insecurity settling in.

I sigh, realising I’ll have to make do with what I have. Deciding to check on my phone, hoping it had charged fully by now, I cautiously make my way upstairs. Approaching Xavier’s room, I hear the faint sound of a shower running.

I knock, but there is no response. Assuming the room is empty, I open the door to find his room deserted, but the light in the en-suite is on. He’s in there. Showering.No shit sherlock.Heat rushesto my face at the thought of him naked, water and soap cascading over his sculpted body.

My eyes fall on a framed photo on his bedside table. It’s a picture of him with his family, smiling and happy. I can’t help but smile at the sight, imagining what it must be like to grow up in such a close-knit family. As I head to retrieve my phone, lost in my thoughts, the sound of Xavier clearing his throat startles me. I whip around to see him, leaning against the bathroom door, dressed in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh my god. S-sorry,” I stutter.

As I regain my composure, my gaze involuntarily drifts over his sculpted chest, and my mind froths over the sight. Despite the numerous times I’ve seen him shirtless, especially earlier in the pool, witnessing him now, almost naked, wrapped in just a towel, remains an image I can’t seem to get over. The allure of his physique strikes me once again, and my thoughts begin to dance on the edge of something I can’t quite put into words.

“I, uh, I just came to grab my phone,” I stammer, turning my head, embarrassment flooding my cheeks.

Xavier releases a breathy laugh, and I turn back to look at him—mischief lighting up his eyes. “Isla, I’ve literally made you come—twice... and you’re embarrassed about me being in a towel?” he says in disbelief. I smile shyly and look away.

“Have you showered yet?” he asks.

“Uh, no. I’ll wait until Imogen is done,” I reply.

“Shower here. I have clean towels in the cupboard, shampoo, andall that... stuff. Just none of that girly scented stuff you use…” he says with a smirk, waving his hand casually as he pads over to his wardrobe.

“No, no, it’s okay. I don’t want to impose,” I insist.

“Isla, just use my shower,” he murmurs.

“Okay—my clothes are downstairs,” I begin, but before I can move, he tosses an oversized t-shirt at me, and I catch it just in time.

Righto, then.There’s no way his top is going to fit me, I think, smirking at the sheer size of it.

I make my way into his en-suite, and his lingering scent fills the air, instantly arousing me. His bathroom is surprisingly luxurious, adorned with all-white tiling, a bathtub strategically placed in front of a large window offering a view of the vast plains of his farm, and a fancy-looking shower that seems larger than my entire bathroom back at my apartment.Jesus.

I strip down, placing my clothes over the drying rack, and step underneath the shower-head mounted at the top of the ceiling. The warm water instantly envelops me, and I sigh in relief. Wasting no time, I begin to wash my body and scrub my hair until it’s squeaky clean, revelling in the idea that I’ll now smell like him.

The sound of the rain outside amplifies the cosy ambiance of the bathroom, and I take my time, letting the water soothe away any lingering anxieties. The bathroom is filled with a cloud of steam as I eventually turn off the shower. Wrapping myself in one of Xavier’s oversized towels, I feel a strange mix of vulnerability and exhilaration. The thought of Xavier just a few feet away, separated by a door,adds an unexpected thrill.

I step out of the en-suite, the damp air from the shower still clinging to me. Xavier sits on the edge of his bed, engrossed in his phone, thumbs tapping away at the screen. The glow from the device illuminates his striking features. His brows are furrowed as he works on his phone, the long strands of his dark hair—still damp from his recent shower—hang down over his brow, and the hair at his nape starts to curl. How can a fuckinghaircutbe so attractive? He really takes a mullet cut to the next level.

“Hey,” I say, my voice betraying a mix of nerves and curiosity.

Xavier looks up, a smirk instantly playing on his lips. “Hey. You good?”

“Yeah,” I feign a smile. “Your shower is amazing, by the way,” I say with a smile.

He chuckles. “Glad you liked it. Help yourself anytime.”

I nod, unsure of what to respond to that. His t-shirt provides both comfort and a strange sense of intimacy. Arousal flushes through my core as the realisation hits me—I’m wearing his t-shirt without underwear. I can’t help but feel a little naughty and so,so exposed.Xavier pats the space beside him on the bed, inviting me to join him. I hesitate for a moment before making my way over.

“What were you working on?” I ask, attempting to shift the focus away from my impending self-consciousness.

“Just some work emails. Can’t seem to escape them even on the farm,” he replies with a sardonic expression.

We sit in companionable silence for a moment, the hum of therain outside faintly reaching our ears. I steal a glance at Xavier, and his gaze meets mine, the coolness in his blue eyes sparking a sense of comfort.

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