Page 10 of Lassoed Love

I lift the ramp and close the trailer door, securing the latch. As we walk into the clinic, my eyes unintentionally trace the curves of her hips and the alluring sway of her movements. Damn it, Xavier, get it together.

But fuck—I find myself captivated by her curvaceous figure, a stark contrast to the girl I used to know. Just when I thought I’d finally rid her from my thoughts, here we are again, back to square one.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to find out more about the girl who never used to fit the mould, a girl who now very much embodies womanhood. As we step into the clinic, I can't shake the feeling that this unexpected reunion might lead to more than just tending to a sick horse. The thought both infuriates me and intrigues the fuck out of me. I don’t need distractions, especially not from someone like her, but in this small town, old flames have a way of reigniting whether you like it or not.

I’m fucked.

5

Claire and I are comfortably seated across the dining table, cold ones in hand, as we swap stories about our day. The evening is settling, and the atmosphere at my place is filled with laughter and the clinking of beer bottles. I take a casual sip of my beer, eyes fixed on Claire as I drop the bomb.

“So, uh, Xavier Mitchell paid a visit to the clinic today.”

Claire, mid-sip, chokes on her beer, spraying it across the table. I can’t help but burst into laughter at her dramatic reaction. She recovers, sputtering, “Bitch, warn a girl next time!” Her voice is a higher octave than usual.

Wiping the beer from her face, she demands, “What the fuck! Explain yourself.”

I chuckle, unfazed by her outburst. “His horse is suffering from a bout of colic. He stormed in, demanding immediate attention as if he owned the place, throwing out sarcastic remarks.”

Claire scoffs, “Oh, what a prick!”

“The expression on his face was priceless, Claire, like a deer caught in headlights when he realised it was me,” I share, but internally, Iacknowledge my own stunned and awkward reaction in that moment.

For the next twenty minutes or so, I recount to Claire how Xavier, true to his usual pompous self, mirrored my words, throwing snarky remarks in the midst of our conversations. It prompts me to wonder when the last time was that I’d seen him smile. Even back in high school, despite his popularity, he had never been one to express joy easily. A perpetual grump, sauntering through life seemingly carefree. Yet, as my mind dwells on this, I can't ignore the peculiar sensation that today, just for a fleeting moment, his mouth almost betrayed a hint of an upward curve—something I never believed possible on his typically scowling face.

“And… to make matters worse, I was caught ogling him,” I continue.

Claire nearly chokes on her beer again. “You were what?”

I nod, deadpan. “Caught. O-g-l-i-n-g. Him.”

“Why were you checking him out, Isla?” She questions me with a mischievous look and sly grin. I pick up the discarded bottle cap next to me on the table and launch it at her. “Piss off!”

Claire bursts into laughter. “This is fucking gold! I have to tell Imogen.”

I try to hide my amusement. “Nooo, don’t. She’ll never let me live it down.”

Claire grins, mischief in her eyes. “Too late, babe. This is prime material for our entertainment," she says as she hurriedly moves her fingers over the phone screen that has now magically appeared in her hands.What the fuck… when did she pull her phone out?

I shake my head. To my right, the chime of multiple messages interrupts the moment. No doubt Imogen is currently freaking out over the phone, fueled by whatever dramatic rendition Claire has shared with her.

Claire leans in, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “So then, what did he look like? What was he wearing?”

I raise an eyebrow, considering her question. “Rugged and all ‘I'm a farmer’ vibes. Wearing jeans, a flannel shirt, and a fuckingcowboyhat.” I scoff. Internally, I recall how I couldn’t help but notice his hair poking out from underneath his hat, curls and all.Oh, piss off. He’s infiltrating my thoughts, and it’s an unwelcome intrusion. Damn him.

Claire smirks. “Sounds like he hasn't changed much."

Having both abandoned our small-town roots for city dreams—me in pursuit of Veterinary Science and Claire in pursuit of a Marketing degree—she, much like myself, hasn’t caught sight of Xavier in years.

“Imogen has said he was ‘known’ to be a player back in the day, way after school, but has never actually settled down.” She uses hand gestures to signal air quotes. “What’s he like now?”

I scrunch up my nose. “Trust me, not someone I’d consider dating.”

She laughs. “Come on, it’s just a speculation. Imogen says he’s still single, and you’ve got to admit, he’s not hard on the eyes from what I can remember in high school. I can only imagine what he must look like now as a grown man.

“The man’s a mystery. I’m kinda curious.”

I shoot her a sceptical look. “Curious about what, exactly?”

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