Chapter 3
"Thank you," Miley plastered on her best fake smile as the eager girl stood in front of her. She mentally rolled her eyes as the bottle blonde waved awkwardly and skipped out of the room.
Once the candidate was out of sight she leaned her elbows on the table and rubbed her temples in a circler motion.
"That is the hundredth girl we've seen today," she groaned. Clasping her hands together in front of her, she breathed, frustrated.
Demi scattered the applications that were in her hands on the table, "Well you always manage to find something wrong with each of them."
"They're just not right."
They didn't meet the criteria Miley was envisioning for her boutique. She wanted the perfect girl to model what she represented.
None of these girls came close.
"You have to choose someone soon. Scott has the photo shoot set up for Friday." Two days away and they were no where near ready.
Miley leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest, shutting her eyes, "When you find someone, let me know."
"You'll just pick them apart like the rest," Demi mumbled, searching through the applications.
The raven haired woman scanned through each models portfolio a dozen times before finally settiling at the conclusion that Miley was right. None of these girls had the image that they were looking for.
Flipping to the last picture she pursed her lips. None of these hopefuls represented "Classy Lassie." They weren't passionate about it. All of them just looking for a job so they could add another set of photo's to their portfolio, hoping to score a greater opportunity.
Resting her head in her palm, she tapped her cheek with her manicured nails. If only there was a model who had the exact amount of pride and passion as Miley did for this business. If only she had the same body and image as Miley did, they would have their perfect model.
Slowly, she craned her neck, smiling widely at her best friend.
Feeling like someone was staring at her, Miley opened one of her eyes and compressed her face, confused at the eager woman beside her.
"What?" Miley asked confused, sitting up straight.
"I just found the perfect model," she grinned widely.
"Well, show me."
When Demi didn't move a muscle and remained smiling creepily at her, Miley soon realized what she had in mind.
Hastily, she shook her head, "No no no no no!" Standing up, she started pacing.
"Oh come on, Mi," Demi tried, "Just imagine it. You representing you. If you ask me there is no one else better for this job."
"But Dems," She rubbed her forward, "I'm not a model. I'm not stick skinny."
Standing up, Demi stood in front of Miley and grabbed her shoulders, "That's not what your customers want any way. They want a real woman showing off what they wear everyday," she smirked, "Curves are the new thing baby."
Miley giggled and nodded, "Fine," she hesitated, "But I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"The lingerie part," Miley mumbled, "No one has ever seen me naked or in my underwear except for the two guys I have slept with and you."
"So what," Demi waved her hand dismissively, "Look on the bright side. At least you're not a whore," she laughed, "Seriously, Mi. You have the dream body. If I were a dude I would totally hit that," She winked, snikering.
Miley giggled, walking over to where she previously sat. She grabbed all the papers and portfolios, along with her purse, as well as Demi, "Thanks, but I still need a guys opinion."
"Just ask Liam."
Miley shook her head, knitting her eyebrows "He's already seen me exposed," Walking out of the boutique, she held the door open for Demi, "Plus I'm his girlfriend and he'll lie to me no matter what. I need a man who has never seen me like that before and who will be one hundred percent honest with me no matter what."
Demi shook her head, shamefully "I just told you, you should be thankful that you're not a whore and here ya' go," she joked.
Miley swatted Demi's arm, "It's not like I'm going to go up to some stranger on the street and strip for him."
Demi stopped walking, "Hey, that could be a good idea," as an older man was passing by she stopped him, "Excuse me, Sir. But would you min—"
Feeling her cheeks burn red, Miley dashed toward Demi's side and yanked on her arm, "I'm sorry about my mental friend, Sir. She just got out of the nut house," Miley patted Demi's head, "Poor thing."
The gentlemen awkwardly smiled at the pair, then continued on his path.
Miley smacked the side of Demi's head, "What was that?" She whispered/yelled, as Demi rubbed her head.
"You said you needed a man who had never seen your goodies so I was getting you one," she defended, "So much for being a good friend," she muttered.
Miley rolled her eyes, "I don't need you picking out random strangers for me, " she paused, "Besides I already have someone perfect for the job," she snickered.
"Who?"
Maybe Demi was right. She should have just asked Liam for his opinion. This was harder then she'd anticipated.
Here she stood, in front of a full length mirror, tugging at the cups of her lacy bra, and pulling down the hem of her boy shorts, while Nick awaited in the other room for her to come out. She had been modeling clothes for him ever since he arrived home from for work, that Thursday afternoon.
Yes, she was comfortable with her body but deep down she was always nervous. No matter what the situation, she always wanted to please someone. The ultimate people pleaser. Even if it was back in high school, even as far back as elementary days, she strived to be the best at everything, and make everyone like what she did.
But like every other time when her mind was over powering her heart, she thought back to her Just Breathe tattoo, located under her left breast. Admiring the black ink she instantly remembered Nick. Whenever she would go into her perfectionist mode he would simply grab her shoulders, take a deep breath, and whisper, "Just breathe, Mi."
And that's exactly what she did.
Inhaled.
Exhaled.
Gathering all of the confidence she could muster in that moment, she stepped back into her bedroom, with her hands nervously clasped in front of her.
Hearing the door open, Nick sat up on the edge of her bed. He had been waiting for a good fifteen minutes. But he didn't mind. This was something Miley needed him for and he was there, he was always there. No matter how thick or thin the obstacle was.
Taking in the sight before him, his breath caught in his throat. It felt like he swallowed a baseball. She looked so perfect in the pale pink, lacy bra and panties. He had never seen a woman this beautiful in her underwear. He couldn't believe she was so nervous for this shoot. Curves all in the right places, skin smooth and silky, assets displayed perfectly.
Oh Christ, if she looked this good in simple undergarments, imagin—
NO.
Nick shook his head, cursing at himself. He couldn't think about her that way. That was his best friend. Yes, she looked beyond beautiful, hot, gorgeous, and sexy, standing before him but he couldn't fantasize about her in that way.
Noticing his quiet and wide eyed expression, Miley felt her heart race. Oh God, he was probably disgusted. He had witnessed plenty of females in lingerie, even naked; one of the reasons why she chose him. He was experienced and knew what looked decent and what didn't.
"Sorry," she mumbled, "God, I knew I couldn't pull this off!" She whined, frustrated, pacing, "I mean who would want to look at me like….like this!" she looked down at her nearly exposed body and hung her head.
Shocked from her sudden out burst, Nick stood up, "What are you talking about?" he examined her whole figure, toe to the tip of her head. He was mesmerized, "Mi, you're gorgeous," he grinned, bringing his hands to her shoulders, he breathed deeply, "Just breathe, you worry to much."
She followed his instructions and inhaled shakily then let it go, feeling her stress deflate, "I know, but this has to be perfect and I'm…"
"Beautiful," Nick whispered. He guided her to the neatly made bed and wrapped his arm around her waste, "Perfect is over rated."
Miley rested her head on his shoulder, "You say that all the time," she muttered.
Nick chuckled, "And I'm going to keep saying it until you learn to live by it," they paused, enjoying the comfortable silence, "I have never understood why you always obsess over being perfect," he whispered.
"Everyone wants someone who's perfect."
"I don't" he immediately followed, "I would get bored with perfect. You, my friend, are amazing the way you are. You don't need to change. Not for anything or anyone."
Miley giggled then gazed up at him, "Thank you."
"No problem, kid," he ruffled her hair.
She hated when he called her kid. She was only a few months younger than him. Despite that she was way more mature.
Fixing her hair she stood. Walking over to her closet, she pulled out a jersey.
Nick watched her carefully. He admired her, "So this is what Liam gets to see, " he shook his head laughing as she slipped the jersey over her head.
"What?"
"Nothing," he paused, smirking at her, "With a body like your's I'm surprised he doesn't pound you harder."
Trying to hold back a laugh, she glared at him, but also showed a hint of blush "Not funny Nicholas," she collapsed beside, "Are you coming with me tomorrow?" she asked, playing with her fingers
He fell beside her, smiling softy, "Wouldn't miss it. You know I'm always here for you," he smirked, "Even when you come to realize your sex life is boring."
Groaning, she grabbed the pillow behind her and threw it on his face, "My sex life is good."
Nick laughed, throwing the pillow in the world, "Just good? You could've chose any other nice word to say but you choose good? You've got a problems kid."
A/N: Review Please? "Aww Nick's soft side" LOL! But I wanted to make a point with this chapter. I wanted to show how Nick cared for Miley and all of that fluffy cutsie stuff, haha! Hope you guys like it! Seriously, I am still shocked on the reviews for this...like I'm speechless! I can not thank you guys enough for the support, reviews, fave & all of that good stuff. I love reading yalls feed back. It makes me smile, so keep it up & tell me your opinions on this chapter! =]
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