This Cruel Love

“Err, no!” I replied. “What about jeans?”

He pursed his lips at my irritating questions.

“I don’t have any,” he said, looking down at the floor as if he were embarrassed.

“Oh. My. God. How old are you?” He tensed as I said this. “I mean, everyone owns a pair of jeans.”

“I’m thirty-one, and no, I don’t own a pair. What would I need them for? I don’t ever go anywhere that requires me to be... casual.”

I knew he was uptight, but I hadn’t realised how much until just now. He spent his whole life looking perfect in his suits, didn’t he know how to relax or kick back? What a strange life he led. This day was turning out to be a whole load of fun in the making.

“It’s decided then,” Cill announced. “We’re going shopping. The three of us. She’ll get a dress and we’ll find some jeans and a t-shirt for Mr Strait-laced over here. I’m sure we can get them to add extra starch just for you, mate.” Cillian smirked, then shooed me out of the living area to get myself ready.

“Are you completely insane?” I heard Jackson remark as I skipped out of the room, inwardly cackling at how much I could torture him today.

What I’d expected and what I got out of our little trip were two completely different things. Who’d have thought shopping for men’s jeans could be so… unsettling. I felt flustered and all out of sorts watching Jackson try on pair after pair, each time reappearing from the changing rooms with a grimace, and declaring how uncomfortable and restricting the jeans felt, but looking totally delectable. He certainly fitted them well. Even the guy fetching the different pairs for him to try from the shop floor couldn’t stop himself from checking out his shapely butt. I blamed my own heated reaction on being totally horny and missing my boyfriend. I needed to get laid. That had to be why I was feeling so distracted and awkward. I kept praying that Cillian wouldn’t notice, or Jackson, for that matter. So I busied myself with folding old pairs that’d been discarded, and acting like I was oblivious to everything.

“What about a ripped pair?” the shop guy piped up.

“No. I need to impress the mayor, not make him think I stepped off the streets,” Jackson growled. He wasn’t enjoying this at all.

“You know, that first pair you tried on was fine. I don’t know what all the fuss was about them being too tight.” Cillian grabbed the pair of jeans I was folding out of my hands and threw them over to Jackson.

“Try them on again. Let’s all agree you look hot and then move onto shopping for the good stuff; Ryley’s dress.”

I was losing the will to live. I doubted I had it in me to find a dress after the energy it’d taken to watch Jackson try jeans on, and appear unaffected. The man had missed his calling. He would’ve made an excellent fashion model.

Minutes later, Jackson came back out wearing the best fitting jeans I’d ever seen any man wear. They clung to him like a second skin and made my mouth water, that’s for sure.

“What do you think, Ryley?” Cillian asked me.

Jackson looked so puzzled and confused, he really didn’t know if he looked good or not. It was quite endearing.

“I like them,” I said, sounding way too breezy. “Get the t-shirt too.”

The t-shirt was a black one with a tribal motif on the front in a dark grey. Not too flashy, but it clung to his chest and showcased his muscly arms perfectly.

Shop guy appeared with a fitted black leather jacket, and helped Jackson shrug it onto his shoulders. I think shop guy was enjoying his job an awful lot today. He was good at it too, because when he stood back to show us, I actually gasped. Jackson looked totally yummy, for an asshole.

“See. You can do casual. You got the Ryley seal of approval.” Cillian gave me a sly, cheeky wink and I blushed. I was busted.

“It’s perfect. Now, can we get going? I’ll come back tomorrow and get a dress on my own,” I argued, but Cillian was having none of it.

“No way, Tink. We’re here now. We may as well take a look.”

“The ladies’ department is on the next floor,” Shop guy piped up. He was way too interested in us. I think he’d have tagged along if he could have.

Walking through the store with two excellent specimens of man candy was an experience in itself. As we took the escalators up to the next floor, two women coming down the opposite side couldn’t help but notice us.

“Nice bag carriers you’ve got there, chick,” one of them said to me.

“We come highly recommended,” Cillian flirted back, leaning across the divide with his chest and turning his body to watch them as they drifted down and away from him.

“I need to hang out in the ladies wear department more often.” He laughed.

“Yeah, ‘cos that won’t make you look creepy at all.” I eyed him suspiciously.

“Oh, relax, blondie. You’re still my number one.” He went to touch my face, but Jackson knocked his hand away.