One stripper & One billionaire & One famous footballer... One relationship.
Hollie Murphy has never had much of her own, surviving by herself since she can remember whilst working in STRIP CLUBS as an exotic dancer means she doesn't like to share...
I was early by hours, not wanting to miss the flight, I decided to get to the airport at 7am. Damion had taken the earlier flight after he heard that I would be coming with Hollie, I tried not to revel in the thought of travelling alone with Hollie. But I still did.
By contrast, Hollie sprinted in just at the apex of my panic point—when the flight was boarding—in an oversized hoodie, black workout yoga pants, and casual nike trainers. I saw the response to her pass through the crowd in a flowing ripple. I couldn't tell if Hollie noticed the reaction or not, but nearly every set of male eyes—and a few envious female ones as well—followed her as she hurriedly made her way toward our gate.
She looked casual but still stunningly fresh, her cheeks slightly flushed from her run and her full, pink lips parted as she caught her breath. She stopped short when she found me in the crowd, her eyes going wide with relief.
"Shit." She slapped a hand over her mouth. "I thought I was going to be late when I couldn't find the correct gate, and then there was the whole 'Sorry miss you can't take food through customs," she continued to complain, "Who the Hell made that rule, I was looking forward to eating my mango!"
I shook my head in amusement. She then crouched into a small squat in front of her suitcase and began to rummage through the front pocket in search of something. The sight of her all flustered caused a small smile to find it's way on to my face.
I felt my brows pull together as I continued to watch her. "Tell me you haven't forgotten something."
"No, I'll have you know that I'm not a complete idiot. It's just that well, I . . . you look really dressed up for the plane. I feel like a right hobo in my sweats in comparison."
I wasn't sure whether I was meant to feel insulted or praised by her comment. "You don't look like a hobo. You couldn't possibly look like a hobo Hollie."
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She groaned, covering her face. "Stop being nice Ethan, it doesn't suit you. I have my makeup bag in here somewhere. Bitch over at customs wouldn't let me take through my foundation but I've got my mascara in here somewhere at least."
I rolled my eyes, she doesn't need any makeup. It's a waste of money for her.
"Where is Josh?" She stood up from her squat to look around the area, her face fell into a small frown before I had the chance to explain.
"He is meeting us out there later tonight, got caught up with work but he promised that he will make up for it latter." I reassured her with a small kiss to her forehead as the overhead voice informed us that the plane was boarding. About time.
"I would be much happier if you had agreed to let me take you on the private jet with Josh." I tried to hide my distaste at having to board this plane when I have a perfectly good and expensive jet at my disposal. Typical that Hollie would refuse to use it just to wind me up.
