Page 80 of Lassoed Love

This type of shit is not exactly my scene, but with Isla by my side, it somehow feels more tolerable. Imogen, Bradley, Harrison, Michael, and Olivia are all here tonight. Bradley, the stubborn one, had to be convinced to join, much like myself.

Big night outs and drinking have never been my thing. I did it for a while when I was young, but that’s about it. Now with age, I find myself preferring the quiet of the farm over the chaos of a crowded bar.

Olivia just let us know that she’d invited Amelia, an old childhood friend we hadn’t seen in ages. I remember her from our farm days, always following us around, with my sister—and by ‘us’, I mean Bradley. Back then, I had a hunch she’d had a little crush on my brother, though the oblivious fool never noticed.I could be wrong.I wonder how she’s changed after all these years. She hasn’t arrived yet, leaving an air of anticipation tinged with nostalgia. The bar is a sea of people, and it’s no surprise given the night isyoung and the allure of The Loose Lasso is hard to resist.

Isla seems a bit uneasy, and I can’t blame her. The last time she was here, it didn’t end well. She leans into me subtly, silently pressing for reassurance. I look down at her and offer a reassuring smile. “Hey, it’ll be fun.”

She looks up at me with appreciation, and my chest warms at the sight. It’s moments like these that make the chaos of the night seem a little more manageable, a shared understanding that we’re in this together. That I’ve got her, for as long as she wants me.

We’re all crammed around the bar, waiting for an available table or booth like a pack of wolves sizing up potential prey. The air is charged with the promise of a good night out, and each of us holds a drink in our hands. Olivia, with her vivacious spirit, had taken charge of the first round, shouting for drinks. The guys and I had opted for cold beers, while the ladies indulged in those overly sweet, fruity concoctions. Not my Isla, though. She’s a woman of taste, ordering a scotch and coke. I love that about her—she’s got a distinct flair that sets her apart. We all clink our drinks together.

Liv’s eyes light up as she spots an empty booth in the corner. “Found a spot, guys!” she announces, and we collectively decide to make our move.

My gaze lingers on Isla, her presence grounding me. We might be at a funny place, dancing on the fine line between friendship and something more, but I can’t help the surge of protectiveness I feel around us. She’s mine, whether she acknowledges it or not. The realisation settles in, and I can no longer deny the depth of myfeelings for her.

Tonight, amidst the pulsating music and the laughter of friends, I can’t escape the truth—I’m falling for Isla, and there’s no turning back.

As we settle into the booth, the energy of the place envelops us. The low hum of conversation, the rhythmic thumping of the music surrounds us. I pull Isla into the booth to sit next to me. Imogen takes a seat beside Isla, and the rest of the crew cram into the booth, determined to make it work. The leather upholstery creaks underneath our weight.

As the group settles into the booth, the lively energy of the place surrounding us, Imogen and Harrison, true to form, break out into a comfortable bickering session.

“Imogen, you can’t seriously think pineapple belongs on pizza!” Harrison exclaims, a mockingly incredulous expression on his face.

Imogen scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Harrison, if you had any taste buds left, you’d know the sweet and savoury combo is divine. You’re just a culinary caveman!” Harrison puts a thumbs down in the air. Michael and I collectively groan out loud.

Imogen leans forward, her eyes narrowing in on Harrison. “I appreciate the finer things in life, unlike you, Neanderthal.”

Harrison smirks, undeterred. “Call it what you want, sugar, but I’ll take a classic Margherita over a fruit salad pizza any day.”

Olivia jumps into the fray. “Well, I also love pineapple on my pizza,” she declares with a mischievous grin, fully aware of the chaos she’s about to incite. Imogen high fives her, smacking their handstogether and Harrison just glares at both of them.

Michael, clearly exasperated, interjects, “Who even brought up this stupid conversation?”

Imogen and Olivia, in perfect unison, point accusingly at Harrison. “He did!” they exclaim simultaneously.

The banter between Imogen and Harrison continues, their voices blending into the lively soundtrack of the night. Isla leans into my side, her presence a comforting weight against me. And in the midst of this lighthearted chaos, I can’t help but appreciate the simple joy of being surrounded by friends who have become a second family, Isla now included.

As we settle into the booth, Olivia’s infectious excitement bursts forth, announcing Amelia’s arrival. She declares her intention to fetch Amelia from the entrance, leaving the booth.

Bradley, seated across from me, seems to subtly adjust in his seat. His expression remains unreadable, hidden beneath layers of familiarity and, perhaps, a hint of discomfort. I'm no mind reader, but something’s definitely on his mind.

Moments later, Olivia returns with Amelia in tow, their camaraderie evident from the way they navigate through the crowd. Amelia greets the group with a friendly wave, and Olivia proceeds with introductions.

“Everyone, this is Amelia! Amelia, meet the crew,” Olivia says, gesturing to our eclectic bunch.

Amelia’s gaze lands on Isla, and Olivia continues the introductions. “And this is Isla, our new resident vet.”

Isla waves from her seat, smiling shyly. “Hi!”

“Pleasure to meet you, Isla,” Amelia says with a warm smile, waving back.

Olivia, ever enthusiastic, redirects Amelia’s attention to Bradley and me. “And, of course, you remember Xavier and Bradley,right?” she asks, playfully. Amelia's eyes flicker with recognition as she greets us. “Xavier, Bradley, it’s been way too long. How’ve you both been?”

I exchange pleasantries with a polite nod and a smile. Bradley offers a reserved response, his gaze lingering for a moment before he shifts his attention elsewhere.

With everyone now gathered, Olivia takes charge and announces another round of drinks. This time, Bradley surprises us by standing up abruptly, offering to shout for the round. He saunters off to the bar, leaving the rest of us to speculate about his sudden enthusiasm for generosity.

Amelia watches his departure, her gaze lingering for a moment before returning her attention to the group. There’s a quickness to Bradley’s steps that catches my eye, sparking a mischievous thought. Isla, sensing something, turns to me with a quizzical look in her eyes. “Is there something going on there?” she asks, her curiosity piqued.

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