Page 20 of Lassoed Love

I glare at her.

“Seriously, you need to get out, and you know, go on dates.”

“Coming from a twenty-year-old who still keeps her stuffed animals. Grow up.”

“Twenty-three, actually,” she quips, her voice laced with attitude. “And hey, I’ll never get rid of them. They’re sentimental. I’ll passthem down to my kids one day.”

“At least I have a cuddle buddy. You should try it sometime.”

“Yeah sure, no worries.” From beside me, I hear Bradley snort.

“Oh leave him alone, Liv. He’ll find someone when he’s ready. Both of you. I’m not getting any younger, I’d like to have my grandkids runnin’ around while I’m still moving.” Mum chides.

I release a heavy exhale. “Yeah, no pressure at all, Mum.” I scoff.

“Just saying,” she says, raising her hands before wiping them on a napkin.

Rightio, that’s enough interaction for me. With a sigh, I push back from the table, my plate in hand. Liv’s words echo in my mind, stirring up that familiar frustration about my love life. But dwelling on it only irritates me further.

Isla’s image flits through my thoughts briefly. The other day at the clinic keeps replaying in my mind—seeing her in those green scrubs, the first time I’ve seen her in years since high school. She’s back home now, but for what reason? Part of me wants to know why she’s back, what made her return after all this time. But another part of me tells me it’s none of my business. We’ve both moved on, or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

And then today. Today was different, however. Fuck, thoughts of her now flood my mind, the way we actually had a decent conversation, how things seemed to be going alright during the horse ride. I let my guard down, allowed myself to enjoy the moment, but then she took off like all of a sudden the thought of being around me repulsed her. It’s left me bewildered, my mind still trying to processeverything.

Bloody hell, the thought of her stirs something deep down, a mix of longing and frustration. She’s still just as attractive as she was in high school, still rocking those curves that used to drive me crazy. I need to stop this, I tell myself, shaking my head as if to physically shake off the thoughts.

“I’m heading upstairs,” I announce, passing by Mum and giving her a kiss on the head. “Thanks for dinner, Ma.”

As I trudge upstairs, leaving everyone downstairs, my phone vibrates in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts. It’s a message from the group chat with Harrison.

I scoff as I type out a reply.

I stare at the screen, contemplating. Going out has never been my thing, especially now, as an adult, and lately, I’ve really embraced the whole hermit lifestyle. But maybe a night out, a change of scenery, and a few drinks will help me clear my head. I can’t deny that Isla’s been on my mind more than usual lately.

Fuck, I might need a drink after all.

I type out begrudgingly. Harrison’s reply comes swiftly.

I just respond with a thumbs up emoji before collapsing onto my bed, face down. With a deep groan, I stretch my arms underneath my pillow, feeling the weight of the evening settling in my mind like a heavy blanket. The thought of socialising for hours already exhausts me, but I’ve committed now.

I better not regret this decision, I think to myself, my mind already racing with a mix of anticipation and dread.

11

1, 2, Many Drinks - Luke Combs

As Saturdaynight unfurls, the air is buzzing with anticipation, and Claire and Imogen are stirring with excitement.Here we go again.The girls are in the midst of our usual pre-night-out ritual, each armed with their makeup kits and a trove of outfits sprawled across my bed.

Imogen, the resident hairstylist of the trio, is wielding a straightener, transforming my hair into a silky straight do—something different to the waves I usually wear—while Claire is rummaging through her seemingly bottomless bag of cosmetics.

“So, what’s the plan tonight?” Imogen chirps.

“We’re hitting up Madison’s first, right?” Claire pipes in, mascara wand in hand.

Madison’s is a popular diner in town. Tonight would be my first time visiting the joint since I’d been back, and to say I was feeling slightly nervous would be an understatement.

“Yeah, I think Madison’s is the move,” I respond, casting a sidelong glance at the duo.

Amidst the excitement of our pre-night-out rituals, my mindinvoluntarily slips back to the unsettling conversation with Claire the day before. As Imogen works her hairstyling magic, my thoughts replay our conversation, and the unease planted by my revelation about Dad’s condition festers.

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