Page 68 of Lassoed Love

“Thanks for letting me use your shower,” I finally say, breaking the silence.

“Anytime,” he replies, his smirk making me melt. “You look good in my shirt,” he says, his tone gravelly.

A subtle warmth spreads through me at his words.Does he really think I look good in his shirt?The thought plays in my mind, and I can’t help but let a small smile grace my lips. It’s a simple compliment, but it feels nice, adding a touch of sweetness to the moment.

“You should smile more,” I suggest, the words slipping out without much thought.

He chuckles, and a playful glint lights up his eyes. “Then you need to be around me more,” he replies, his tone holding a teasing edge.

His response catches me off guard, and a blush creeps onto my cheeks. He wants me around more? The idea lingers in my mind as I ponder his words. Things have taken an unexpected turn, and part of me wonders how different it all would be if we hadn’t crossed that line in his car that night.

The connection between us feels palpable, and for a brief moment, I consider staying longer. However, the rational part of my brain kicks in, reminding me that boundaries are crucial, especially in this situation.

“Well, I should probably head downstairs,” I say with a small smile, attempting to mask the inner conflict.

His eyes squint, sussing me out. “You sure?” he asks, a hint of disappointment underlying his words. He studies me for a moment, his gaze lingering as if trying to decipher my unspoken thoughts. There’s a magnetic pull between us, a gravitational force that’s hard to ignore.

“Yeah… it’s been a long day,” I reply, avoiding the intensity in his gaze.

He nods, but the atmosphere in the room shifts ever so slightly. It’s like leaving a movie halfway through, wondering about the ending you're missing out on. Despite my resolve to maintain distance, a part of me wishes I couldlingera bit longer.

As I turn to leave, Xavier stands up, closing the distance between us. There’s a fleeting moment where it seems like he might say something more, but instead, he offers a genuine smile.

“Alright. Goodnight, Isla,” he murmurs, and the way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine, stirring something deep in my core. The warmth in his voice lingers in my ears, and as he gazes at me with those intense blue eyes.

I return the sentiment, “You, too, Xavier.” And with that, I head back downstairs, leaving the enigmatic allure of his room behind.

Glancing at the screen on my phone, it reads 12:44 am. The day’s events replay in my mind—the pool, dinner, and now. Isla’s presence has completely enveloped my thoughts, and I’m at a loss for how to handle it. Part of me revels in her captivating allure, while another part is unsure of what this all means.Do I even want these thoughts to stop?Her effect on me is undeniable. She stirs up a whirlwind of emotions that I struggle to grasp. Her scent lingers in the room, a constant reminder of her presence.

I close my eyes, attempting to clear my mind, but she’s all I can think about. I find myself wondering if she feels the same pull, if she’s wrestling with her thoughts about me. The way she avoided my gaze as she left, it felt like there was something unsaid between us. I want to understand her, to know what she’s thinking.

With a heavy sigh, I acknowledge that I can no longer ignore this attraction. Surely she must feel the same. I realise that I can’t keep denying this attraction. Isla has stirred something in me, something I haven’t felt in a long time. I can’t shake the feeling that she’s changing everything, and deep down, I’m not sure if I’m ready for the changes she might bring.

Is she awake, thinking about me as I am about her? She should have fucking stayed.God, I wish she stayed.Fuck, the thought of her here, in my bed, makes me instantly hard. I re-adjust myself in my briefs, cursing at the fact that my mind can’t just shut the fuck up.This insomnia can suck it.

As the urge to reach out to Isla grows stronger, I resist the impulse to grab my phone and text her. Should I text her, or should I just leave it and go the fuck to bed? I don’t think I’d be sleeping anytime soon, with this hard on. I shift uncomfortably under my sheets.

What if she’s awake too?Maybe a quick conversation would help me settle down, push away this restlessness. Maybe I can distract myself for a bit and then try to sleep again.But it’s late, and I don’t want to disturb her if she’s already asleep. Plus, what would I even say?

I grab my phone, my thumb hovering over the screen, debating whether to message her. After a moment of hesitation, I decide to text her.You awake?

Fuck it, no going back now. Nerves kick in. What the fuck? Why am I nervous? Thirty years old and I’m starting to sweat like a prepubescent boy, as if I’m talking to a girl for the first time. My stomach actually flutters. Oh, fuck me.

Please be asleep, I chant in my head. I can only hope that she’s asleep and doesn’t see my message, because if she does, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.

28

Everybody Needs Someone - Noah Cyrus, Vance Joy

The rain has finally settled, and the house is wrapped in a tranquil quiet, with only the distant sounds of crickets serenading the night. Since leaving Xavier’s room, I’ve been unable to find peace, tossing and turning in the dimly lit space. Beside me, Imogen sleeps soundly, seemingly undisturbed by the world. That girl could sleep through anything—possibly the world’s heaviest sleeper. A small smile tugs at my lips at the thought.

My mind is a tempest—a torrent of thoughts racing through a thousand scenarios. Every interaction with Xavier from today plays out in my mind, the reel looping back to that night in his car. The moments, the words exchanged—they form vivid scenes, each more intense than the last. The more I try to quiet my mind, the louder the thoughts become, wrestling with the reality of what has transpired between us.

His touch, his kisses, the warmth of his embrace—they linger like a whisper in the shadows. I can’t escape the magnetic pull drawing me toward him. My eyes wander to the window, wondering about Xavier. Is he asleep or awake? What is he doing right now?

Thirsty and restless, I decide to break free from the conundrum of my thoughts. With quiet determination, I slide out of bed and grab my phone, careful not to disturb anyone. I reach the kitchen, the cool tiles underfoot making my body shudder. I open a cupboard, grab a glass, and pad over to the humming fridge, a soft lullaby for the night. As I stand in the kitchen, the cool glass pressed against my lips, my phone vibrates in my hand, startling me in the silence of the night.

Glancing at the screen, I notice the time—12:44 am. The soft glow reveals a text message from Xavier, a simple yet charged question.

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