Men’s G-string

‘But you shot down every single idea of mine.’ I scanned the floor we were on. ‘Let’s go into Lululemon. Is he into sports?’ ‘Isn’t that store for women?’ ‘They have men’s apparel as well.’ I let Tristan browse the racks while I stood to the side. My mind was whirling. The news of Kieran’s upcoming nuptials struck me without warning. We just saw each other yesterday. Yet he never breathed a word of this to me. I tried to rationalise the bitterness in my heart. Of course I would feel uncomfortable. We had a deal. Our kinda sorta ‘lovers in the night’ arrangement would come to an end on the day of his wedding. Which meant I had exactly twenty-eight days to enjoy his body. I attributed the dull ache in my heart to my reluctance to give up such a fine specimen of the male species. Where else could I get such immensely gratifying—not to mention, educational—sex for free? Tristan left Lululemon with the cute shop assistant’s phone number but nothing for his Uncle Kieran. I got fed up with hi