Mix & Matches (Neymar Jr) ✔

#9, Dancing

Her comment made Gil laugh warmly. "You mean like Neymar Senior over there? He's totally in the zone!"

They looked around the dance floor, finding Pai still in the company of the unfamiliar woman. They stood in a corner, almost hidden from view. He clearly was having fun as he talked to her, judging by the goofy grin on his face.

Emma almost choked on the drink she'd grabbed from the waiter only a moment ago. "You mean the guy that's standing there with the woman in the dark blue dress, dark long hair, enticing smile? The bold guy? Kind of a huge head? Right in the corner?"

"Yep."

Ok. So her joke from before was biting them in the ass right now. Brother and sister, huh?

"People," Emma said with a wicked smile on her face. "Things are about to get interesting."

------

"I'm honestly surprised," Tamira said after a while, quite reluctantly. "I didn't think you could dance."

Neymar smirked as he guided her around the floor. "Are you kidding? This is samba, that's my tune by nature, or I'm not Brazilian."

Involuntarily, she chuckled. "Guess you're good at something then."

Neymar took a deep breath, counting to ten in his head. There was just no getting along with this insulant girl, was there?

"Okay, sorry," she said after a moment; he'd reached five in his internal countdown. She sounded like she meant it, which caught him by surprise. "You're good at what you do, I'm gonna have to give you that. Happy now?"

"No, but it's a start," he replied grumpily. "Not everyone can see my genius..."

Tamira groaned, but decided to let it go for now. "We're not done after this one dance, I hope you know that. We need to uphold the pretense." Plus, I need to think about the mixed team initiative first and foremost, she continued inside of her mind.

"I think we can manage," Neymar said. "I'm a professional here, if you care to remember. And what, you have to think?"

Oh, so she hadn't thought it but said it out loud.

"Can you even stand to be around me that long?" he asked venomously. He didn't know why every word coming out of her mouth felt like an insult to him, but there was no denying that Tamira's attitude was riling him up.

"In case you forgot, I'm a professional too! And I will, if it means I get what I want," she countered with a challenging gleam in her eyes.

"Ah, I see. Spoiled attention seeker it is," Neymar said with mirth.

"What's it to you anyways? You think you have me all figured out?"

He had the audacity to smirk at that. "You're not as hard to figure out as you might think you are."

Tamira rolled her eyes. "Please! You have no idea, but I have you figured out."

"Oh really?"

"Really. You don't give a damn about gender equality, you only care about the image boost this whole thing will give you. Contrary to women in sports you have it all, don't you? More fame, more money, more admiration, for doing the same thing! And why? Because you were born with a co–"

Neymar was pretty sure why; it had something to do with the thing she apparently liked to put into her mouth during their arguments and that was biologically a part of him. Wait. Now that conjured up a wrong and disturbing picture!

But, alas, Tamira didn't come so far as to say the word; in that cocky style of speak of hers.

"May I cut in?" a voice interrupted their banter that was on the verge of escalating.