Page 82 of Lassoed Love

Harrison starts, “So, Xavier, how about we have a barbecue tomorrow at the farm for your birthday? Maybe even set up a bonfire. What do you think?”

Michael adds, “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. Count me in.”

But my attention is elsewhere, focused on Isla as she dances. Harrison clicks his fingers in front of my face, saying, “Earth to Xavier…”

I reply nonchalantly, “Yeah, yeah, BBQ sounds good.”

Harrison raises an eyebrow. “You sure about that? You seem a bit distracted.” I tear my eyes away from Isla to focus on the conversation.

Michael speaks up, “Xav, you’ve been staring at Isla like a lovesick puppy. What’s going on?”

I feel a blush creeping up my neck, but I clear my throat and try to play it off. “Nothing. Just watching.”

Michael smirks, “Watching, huh? Fuck, someone’s got it bad.”

I glare at him. “Shut up, Michael.”

The boys chuckle, and Harrison chimes in, “So, have you made a move on her yet?”

Ignoring him, I feel the flush creeping up even more. Michael notices and says casually, “Oh, he has, alright. It’s obvious how much he’s obsessed.”

Harrison exclaims, “Seriously? Xavier, you old dog! You better tell us!”

I shoot a teasing look at Bradley, who’s wearing a smug grin, as if he is amused at this. Deciding to turn the tables, I remark in a snarky tone, “What about you, Bradley, huh? You seemed to rush off real quick earlier, when Amelia got here.”

The boys echo my teasing, and Bradley raises an eyebrow, caught off guard. “What? What are you on about?” he says casually. Harrison looks back and forth, confused, before turning to Michael, who adds, “No clue.”

Returning the smug look back at Bradley, I respond with a knowing, “Mhm, sure,” while Bradley shakes his head, pulling out his phone.

Harrison, with a laugh, says, “Is there something in the air turning you fools into lovesick idiots? Let me know because I want in.”

Michael deadpans, “Yeah, good luck with that one, brother.”

I play it off, downplaying the situation, and say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” smirking as I take a swig of my beer.

Returning my gaze back to the girls, I’m struck with a pang ofanxiety when I notice they’re no longer on the dance floor. My heart drops, and I sit forward in my seat, scanning the crowd until I spot them at the bar, downing shots together. I exhale in relief, but narrow my eyes as I watch them.

As I observe, I notice some bloke, clearly full of himself, and his mates, making their way toward the girls. They engage Imogen and Amelia, and Imogen seems to be having a good time with their banter. Isla and Olivia, on the other hand, remain aloof, observing from a distance. But then, the mate of the wanker starts heading in Isla and Olivia’s direction.

Not a chance in hell, bud.

I find myself on the edge of my seat, leaning forward with my elbows on the table, my gaze fixed on the unfolding drama. Thoughts race through my mind as I glare at the scene, ready to step in if things get out of hand. The audacity of these pricks to encroach on Isla’s space pisses me off to no end. She’s not just some girl. She’smine.

Well, not really, but sheshouldbe. The idea of some random bloke thinking he can just waltz up to her makes my blood boil. The fact that Liv is there makes it even worse.

My fists clench involuntarily as I witness the situation escalating. The guy at the bar leans in closer to Isla and Olivia, invading their personal space. Anger simmers beneath the surface as I see the discomfort on their faces. I glance at the guys beside me, and Harrison, meeting my eyes, just nods, acknowledging the need for intervention.

I look at Brad, who has his eyes narrowed on the escalating situation. “Yeah, fuck that,” I mutter, frustration boiling over, as I stand and saunter over to the girls.

As I approach, I notice one of the men, and recognition flashes through me. Billy Sawkins.What a wanker,I think, recalling our high school days, where he was a year above me.

The men persist, and Billy has the audacity to place his hand on Isla’s arm. My jaw clenches, and a surge of rage courses through me. No one lays a hand on her without permission, and these idiots are pushing all the wrong buttons. I step forward in front of Isla—my presence looming over them like a storm cloud.

“You need to back off,” I growl, my voice low and menacing. Isla and Olivia seize the opportunity to distance themselves from the unwanted attention. Billy, still thinking he’s smooth, smirks. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Xavier Mitchell,” Billy sneers, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I fix him with a glare, not in the mood for his antics. I never really did like this cunt.

“Woah, big tough guy now, huh?” Billy turns to look back at Isla. “She your girl or some shit?”

The comment only adds fuel to the fire, intensifying the tension in the air. My temper flares, jaw clenching at Billy.