Page 41 of Lassoed Love

As I make my way toward the exit, the familiar sounds of the showground fading behind me, I catch David muttering, “Fuck this.” A sentiment I wholeheartedly share at this point. I can sense Xavier trailing behind me—persistent as ever.

“Isla, you’re not getting an Uber. I’ll drive you home,” he insists.

A sense of déjà vu wracks my brain. Not this all over again, I think, the memories of past entanglements replaying in my mind.

As Xavier continues to follow, undeterred, and David disappears from the scene, my patience wanes. I’m insistent on catching an Uber, not entertaining the idea of being driven home by Xavier. I glance at my phone—my Uber app isn’t showing any available drivers. I curse inwardly and quickly refresh the app, desperately hoping for a change.

“Isla, don’t make me throw you over my shoulder again. Or are you into that, because I’m down if you are?” he quips, his voice low, a hint of playfulness apparent. A wave of flashbacks hits me—memories of that night at the Loose Lasso. I hate to admit it, but there’s a part of me that liked being manhandled, and the recollection makes my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Seriously, not this again. Don’t you have a trophy to collect in there?” I throw back, looking down at my phone, waiting for a driver to accept my request. Ugh.

“Couldn’t give two fucks about the trophy, to be honest,” he retorts, taking his phone out of his denim pocket to text… someone?Who cares?

“Go back to your mates, Xavier, pl—”

I’m cut off as he moves in closer. “Just let me take you home, Isla. Don’t make me say it again,” he reluctantly admits. “Please.”

I exhale a huge breath, relenting. “Fine... but only because there are no drivers.” The situation forces my hand, but my reluctance is evident.

Ibegrudgingly slide into the passenger seat of Xavier’s ute—the scent of fresh leather wafts through the air, a stark contrast to the familiar traces of hay and dust I expected. I glance out the window, avoiding eye contact with Xavier as I fidget with the hem of my dress.

I can't believe I’m here again. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the gentle sway of the car trigger memories that I wouldratherkeep locked away.That damn kiss. The night when everything changed, my world tossed upside down by a single, unexpected moment.

As he navigates the roads leading to my house with an effortless familiarity, my mind drifts back to the high school days. Days filled with torment, where Xavier and his friends found creative ways to get under my skin. He wasn’t always the instigator, but he never really stopped it either.Did he enjoy hanging out with them,or was it all just for popularity? To be cool?

I’d spent years hating those school days, a time when the boys made my life unbearable. And now, with just a few encounters and that one fuckingkiss, it all seems swept away.Ugh. The complexity of it all leaves me grappling with emotions I’d rather not confront.

Turning my attention to the car’s interior to distract my rambling thoughts, I notice the pristine cleanliness of the car–which is surprising considering he works with farm animals all day.

The air inside feels unexpectedly comfortable, and I can’t pinpoint why. But one thing is certain—being in this car with Xavier feels safer than it did with David, and that speaks volumes.

Isla, you’re overthinking it, I scold myself, trying to push aside the tangled web of emotions. Despite my inner resistance, I can’t help but steal a sidelong glance at Xavier. His hands grip the steering wheel with a comfortable familiarity.

As Xavier manoeuvres the steering wheel with practised ease, I catch glimpses of him, his features highlighted by the soft glow of the dashboard. The radio hums faintly in the background, and I can’t help but admit he really is attractive. You’d be stupid to deny it.

The mere sight of him instantly arouses me, sending tingles down to my core. It’s become a regular occurrence, an undeniable magnetic pull that has me clenching my thighs together, desperately hoping he doesn’t notice the profound effect he has on me.

Gaining some form of confidence, I reach for the console, intending to change the radio station. But in my clumsy attempt, I accidentally connect to his phone, and ‘Like a Stone’ by Audioslaveblares through the speakers, disrupting the comfortable silence.

“Shit, sorry,” I apologise, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.

“Nah, you’re right,” he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “You can leave it... or change it, if you want.”

I press the arrow button, changing the song now to ‘Happy Song’ by Bring Me The Horizon.What?My accidental intrusion into his music taste revealing a surprising choice. “You... listen to rock?” I ask.

“Yeah? Why does that surprise you?”

Why does that surprise me?I ponder. “I don’t know, I pegged you for more the country genre type or... I don’t know, RnB?” I say with a huff of laughter.

“Eh, don’t get me wrong. I listen to them occasionally, but it’s mostly rock. It’s the only thing that gets me going when I’m working... or training,” he says comfortably.

I sit back in my seat, letting the chords of the guitar and the vocals of the lead singer, Oli Sykes, fill the car. I hum along to the song, surprising Xavier, who turns to look at me with a curious expression. “Wait, you listen to rock, too?” he teases.

“Yeah? Why? Does that surprise you?” I reply, echoing his earlier sentiment.

“Yeah, it does actually. I’d pegged you as more of a pop kinda gal, or what do they call it nowadays, Swifter?” He smirks.

“Swiftie? You mean?” I huff a laugh.

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