🌻 Chapter 11

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🌻

I go to the bathroom and put Ryland's dress shirt on. Oddly enough it is longer than the horrible leather dress was. I feel like a human doll at this point with everyone dressing me up. I shouldn't complain, I literally signed up to be a model.

I step out of the bathroom. The cameraman is there waiting for me. I grip the hem on the sides of the shirt, holding it down as I step into the boys' room. Scott and Ryland look up at me with odd expressions. I warm under Ryland's steady gaze. Scott says, "Damn, we are going to win, hands down." I raise my eyebrows. "Come 'ere Baby B, let's roll up the sleeves." Dang it, I think the nickname is catching.

They roll up the sleeves and Scott unbuttons three buttons. "I only have underwear on under here." I don't specifically mention that Chrissy made me take off my bra because it would show with the trashy dress, so I am sans bra also.

Ryland says, "Do you want to put on shorts or something?"

I nod but Scott vetos that idea, "No! That'd ruin the whole 'morning after' look. It has to be just the shirt." Morning after what? He looks me up and down. "The hair needs to be more messy and lots less makeup, like she slept on it."

Ryland whispers, "Fuck me." But he helps by wiping off my makeup. He also stealthily buttons one of the buttons that Scott undid. I give him a grateful smile.

Scott has apparently messed up my hair enough when he comes around to see how the make up is coming. "Yeah, I like the smudged black around the eyes. It's just a little messy. Perfect. I think no lipstick because after all the kissing, that would be gone." I frown. Kissing? What in the world? Ryland is gritting his teeth, he looks like he might be regretting all of this.

"Is it okay?" I ask him.

He sighs then looks me in my eyes, I feel melty. "Yeah, we are definitely winning. At least you are more covered than the fuckin' hooker dress." I agree.

"No shoes?" I ask.

Ryland smirks just a bit, "Um, definitely no shoes, Buttercup." He looks at Scott, "She needs a coffee mug or something."

Scott loves this idea, "Yes! Perfect!" He runs downstairs and comes back with a giant white mug that he hands me.

He turns to Ry, "Hey, do you think we should do pajama bottoms to bring the whole effect home?" Ryland looks thoroughly annoyed by that question. Scott goes into the bathroom and comes back wearing plaid pajama bottoms with no shirt. He puts his arm around my shoulder and turns us toward Ryland. "Chase, what d'ya think? Does it look like Baby and I had a passionate night together?" OH! Oh gosh.

Ryland's eyes darken, he doesn't answer. He must have decided Scott isn't doing this alone because he also changes into pajama bottoms. I don't think he's happy about it though because he grumbles the entire time. When Ryland comes out in his pajama bottoms, no shirt, I have difficulty regulating my breathing. He and Scott are the best looking guys here and they are fit.

F. I. T. Fit.

I sit down on a bed so I don't faint. This is a lot to take in for a regular girl. They are standing in front of me casually chatting and I feel my breathing get more rapid as I look at them. Ryland is wearing red plaid pajama bottoms and Scott is in green. 

I bite my tongue but am unable to prevent myself from calling out "Merry Christmas!" They both look at me like I've lost my marbles. But they are seriously one wrapped present and a puppy away from being the December page of a firefighter calendar.

Scott then gives me instructions. I try to pay attention but I feel like I have ADD with Ryland's abs in front of my face. I grip the mug to keep myself from reaching out to touch them. "No runway show this time. You need to act a bit sleepy, like you just woke up. Drink out of the cup. Look out the window. Maybe stretch, like it is morning. Can you do that?" I nod.

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