Bartra's Sister and Neymar's Lover. (Marc Bartra/Neymar Jr)

Chapter Twenty-Four

MILD R-RATED PART LOL. NOTHING TO CRAZY THOUGH SO IT’S OK.

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Gianna’s POV-

  As the game begins the other team starts passing the ball. It goes back and forth between the blue-suited men. I’m just sitting there for about 15 minutes until I see Emelyn.

“Hey pretty girl!” she says excitedly as she hugs me.

“Hi! I thought you weren’t coming..” I say.

“Of course I was!” she says taking a seat next to me.

  I looked at her as she watched the game attentively and I notice something strange. Not to be mean but it looks like she has gained a bit of weight. Not too much but her cheeks look fuller. Maybe she’s been eating more? Eh, who cares?

 20 minutes later I watch as #9 of the opposing team starts sprinting to our side with the ball. I watch him as his dark curls bounce up and down. I was checking him out and I think Emelyn noticed.

“That’s Giovani Dos Santos.” She says nudging me.

“He’s Mexican. I’ve met him plenty of times. He’s a pretty nice guy with killer hair. But not like you would care since you’re taken.” She adds.

I just nod and give her an innocent smile. We continue watching as he kicks it up a notch and he sprints passed our defenders. Marc and Mascherano are right on his ass but that does nothing. Dos Santos shoots the ball and it goes passed the goalie and into the goal.

“Fuck!” I yell shaking my head.

I scan the field, searching for Ney and he’s standing with his hands on his hips. He’s looking down and shaking his head. He hates not having the lead in games because that makes him more nervous and anxious. I keep my eyes on him and he finally looks back up and straight at me. I blow him a kiss and he gives me a weak smile.

The guys get back into positions and they start up again. Messi has the ball and he passes it to Rakitic. Rakitic starts running and approaching the goal. He’s surrounded by Villareal’s defenders so he passes it to Neymar. Neymar then runs with the ball and he shoots.

I watch as the ball curves a bit and makes its way to the back of the goal.

“GOAL!” I scream, jumping up and hugging Em.

Neymar jumps and runs to his team mates. They all hug him and pat him on the back. He breaks free from their little group and he points at me and winks.