Will men and women ever be able to play football together?
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Ever since she started to play football professionally, Tamira Singer's dream has been to start a new football competition: the respective male and female first teams of a club form a n...
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"And how is this my fault again?" Neymar asked, sighing exasperatedly.
Tamira rolled her eyes, unnerved by him already - and it hadn't been ten minutes yet! "If you hadn't stuck your stupid thumb into your stupid mouth and pointed our way, this clearly wouldn't have happened!"
A copy of today's Mundo Deportivo lay between them on the kitchen table at Neymar's house. A copy that Tamira crumbeld up into a ball with a frustrated huff, throwing it into the far corner of the table. They didn't need to see the article anymore anyways - it was imprinted in their minds.
Neymar Pai heaved a heavy sigh and exchanged a concerned look with Emilia, who shrugged helplessly. She too wasn't sure what to do with the situation. The managers of both football players (Duda for Neymar and Richie for Tamira) were both busy on the phone with various news representatives, dementing rumors about a romantic relationship between Neymar and Tamira - and of course there was no pregnancy, that's even more ridiculous! The goal was a dedication to Neymar's son, who was with Tamira at the time, nothing more. The families get along quite well, that's why they all sat together in the grandstands.
They weren't sure whether to make the relationship between Pai and Emilia public knowledge yet. Which, as much as Tamira didn't like the fact, would make everyone shut up about her and Neymar right this second. But did anyone listen to her? No, of course not.
"And if you hadn't held Davi in your lap, people wouldn't have assumed anything going on between us. Again!" Neymar retorted, pursing his lips angrily, a scowl on his face.
Needless to say, they were back to bickering.
Tamira huffed. "Great, so it's your son's fault for liking me now?"
"That's not what I meant!"
"Sure is! When will you get over the fact that Davi likes me anyways?"
To everyone's surprise, Neymar didn't reply to that. He just shook his head and ruffled his hair in a clearly desperate manner, showing exactly how out of ideas he really was when it came to getting along with Tamira.
Dammit, it was so much easier when she was drunk out of her ass, he thought irritably. Quieter too. Less exhausting. And more wicked.
Nope, Neymar reprimanded himself, memories of their make-out session shooting through his head. Don't go there! Don't remember this!
Too late. Ever since he'd seen the pictures, blurry as they were, his mind kept bothering him with flashbacks at the oddest times; short images, accompanied by a mix of feelings his body apparently associated with them now (hot, bothered, turned on, warm and fuzzy, confused and excited). It didn't sit well with him, at all. She was a menace, needed to be exterminated from his life. Permanently. Too bad that his dad was still seeing her mum. Even more bad that his son was starting to like that "Australian Menace" way too much for his liking.
