Page 31 of Lassoed Love

Isla is the girl from my past, from my high school years. The one I spent countless moments daydreaming about, the one who occupied my thoughts in secret. Memories flood back to me, as if I’ve been transported back to when I was eighteen years old. I’d told myself all those years ago that she was someone I wanted to know better, but never did I think I’d be able to do that.

Yet, here I am now. The thought is absurd. Now, though, everything feels different. I can still taste her on my lips, feel the warmth of her body pressed against mine. It’s intoxicating, and I can’t deny that a part of me wants more.

But I can’t. I shouldn’t. She deserves better than an impulsive kiss on her doorstep. I slide into the driver’s seat, the engine purring to life. The temptation to turn around and go back to her is overwhelming, but I know I can’t. Not now, not like this. I need to clear my head, to figure out what the hell just happened. Isla was the last person I expected to kiss tonight, the last person I expected to stir up these feelings in me.

But she did, and now I’m left grappling with what to do next.

14

The morning light creeps through my blinds, and I wake up with a headache pounding like a construction site. It’s a familiar feeling, a sense of déjà vu, that has me questioning the choices I made last night. Groaning, I reach for my phone, squinting at the screen—8:44 am. I’ve got a barrage of missed calls and texts from Imogen, and a more recent text from Claire.

“Ughhh.” I groan out loud, not ready to face the day or reality.

As I contemplate the impending doom of those conversations, my doorbell rings. At this ungodly hour? And I haven’t even had my morning coffee yet. “Seriously,” I curse under my breath.

My first paranoid thought is, what if it’s him?No, no way. Surely not.He wouldn’t show up at my doorstep after… that. But the universe likes to play cruel jokes on me, so who fucking knows?

Dragging my feet across the floorboards, I lumber inside to the front door, mentally rehearsing my annoyed face. I swing it open, ready to unleash my morning wrath, and... well, it’s not him. Tomy surprise, I find Claire standing outside my door, holding two takeaway coffee cups and looking like a ray of sunshine.

Her soft smile fades a bit as our gazes lock, and I feel an unexpected tension in the air. Before I can say anything, Claire barges in, wrapping her free arm around me, squeezing tight. I stand there frozen, not expecting such affection so suddenly.

“I am so sorry for last night, Isla. I honestly had absolutely no idea. Things got so out of hand, fucking hell,” she says, genuine concern on her face.

Ugh,I was such a bitch last night. I think in my mind, feeling a mix of guilt and relief at Claire’s sincerity. “No, I’m the one who should be apologising, honestly. We had a plan, and I messed it all up. Oh my god! You were supposed to stay here. Fuck, Claire. Where did you end up staying?” I say quickly, rattling off.I am such an idiot.

“It’s okay, honestly. I stayed over at Imogen’s babe… You had every right to get angry over what happened. Imogen is so cut up about everything; she really, really wants to talk to you. I think you should–you know, maybe let her explain herself,” Claire replies back, her eyes filled with genuine concern.

Ugh, I was such a bitch last night. I can't believe I lost it like that. I am soembarrassed. Claire’s right, though. Imogen does deserve a chance to explain herself. But what could she possibly say that would make everything okay? I run my fingers through my hair, feeling a knot of frustration building in my chest.

“Fine,” I finally concede, rubbing my temples.

“Tell her we can meet up, but I need some time to gather mythoughts.” Claire nods in agreement, and I can see the gratitude in her eyes.

The headache from last night’s alcohol isn’t helping, and the last thing I need is more stress.

As I retreat to the kitchen, I can't shake the feeling that my life has become an unexpected rollercoaster, and the twists and turns are far from over.

I cringe at Claire's barrage of questions. “Where did you disappear off to last night,andwith Xavier Mitchell?? You had us both so worried! We called you so many times,” she scolds, her tone filled with both relief and reproach. Her words make me wince as I recall the missed calls on my phone this morning.

“Oh my god,” Claire continues, her eyes widening with mischief, “the way he defended you last night, fuuuck me.” She fans herself with a sly grin, and my confusion deepens.

I frown—so confused at what she’s saying. “What do you mean ‘defended’ me? He basically dismissed me in front of everyone,” I reply, recounting last night's awkward encounter at the booth.

“Babe, after you left, he literally threatened those men for disrespecting you,” she retorts, and I’m genuinely surprised by the revelation.

“No way!” I exclaim.

“You should have seen the dirty look he gave Imogen and me. My my, if looks could kill. I’d say there’s something brewing under the surface there. He was all worked up,” Claire continues, placing a hand on her hip as if waiting for me to spare any information.

My mind drifts back to last night, our moments alone, and that kiss.Jesus Christ.It’s too early for such thoughts—I don’t need to be horny this early. Now well and truly flustered, I look back up at Claire.Big mistake.

“Isla, I know you’re not blushing right now,” she teases, pointing a finger at me. “Oh my GOD! You are, bitch. What are you not telling me? You still haven’t answered my question about Xavier,” she presses.

Heat rises in my cheeks, a vivid blush betraying the emotions swirling within. Ignoring the question, I busily occupy myself in the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a cold bottle of water, taking one out for Claire as well.

She must’ve caught my blush and persists, “Uh, hellooo, I’m waiting... And don’t tell me you walked home because that’s horseshit.”

“How do you know I didn’t Uber it?” I retort back, trying to divert the conversation.Not helping, Isla. You’re just digging yourself a bigger hole. Might as well just tell her.Fuck it.

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