—Neymar Imagine: New Years in Rio Pt. 6—

“I need a shower,” I said, breaking the silence between us.

“So do I,” he responded.

I smiled at him. “I’m pretty sure I saw more than one shower during the grand tour.”

“But I’m already here and undressed,” he said, looking down at his body then back up towards me.

“So am I,” I pointed out.

“Well then we should conserve water and shower together,” he suggested.

I laughed at him. “Like you can’t afford to run two showers at once!”

“I can,” he said. “I just prefer not to if I don’t have to.”

“Well what if I don’t want to shower with you?” I teased.

He just stared at me, almost offended. “Seriously?”

I walked over to him, pressing my body up against his. My mouth hovered over his mouth. He leaned down to kiss me, but I moved my face so that I could see over his shoulder then reached behind him to turn the shower back on.

“Tease,” he complained.

I glared at him. “Greedy!”

We showered together in the same place we’d just made love. In any other circumstance with any other person, I’m sure I would have felt uncomfortable, but not with Neymar. It was natural between us. It felt like I had known him my entire life.

When we were done, we wrapped ourselves in towels. He gave me an extra change of clothes from Rafaella that was hanging in her guest bedroom closet, and he changed into some shorts and a muscle shirt. We finished getting ready then walked over to the kitchen.

“Hungry?” he asked, opening the refrigerator.

“Starving,” I replied.

I didn’t really trust him to cook anything, but I knew he had his own personal chef, so I was hoping she had precooked meals waiting for him in the fridge.

“I have some chicken and vegetables left over from Marcela,” he said.

I let out a sigh of relief. “Sounds delicious,” I responded. “I worked up quiet an appetite.”

He smiled at me then walked over to where I was standing. “Maybe we can burn it off when we’re done,” he winked.

The proximity gave me chills and brought back vivid memories of the intimacy we shared in the shower only moments ago.

“Can’t get enough, huh?” I teased.

“Sure can’t,” he responded.

He walked back over to the fridge and pulled out Marcela’s leftovers. He filled two plates then warmed them in the microwave. We ate then went to the living room to watch TV.

As soon as I sat down on the sofa, I heard my phone ringing. Rodrigo was the first person that came to mind. I had blocked everyone out for the day and totally forgot about him back in Rio.

I got up from the sofa and ran to the guest room we were in to find my cellphone lying on the bed. It had stopped ringing when I got to it, so I unlocked it to see who had called. I had ten text messages and two missed calls, each with voicemails. It was all from Rodrigo.

“Y/N, it’s Rodrigo. Call me back, please. I’m getting worried.”

Then I listened to the second one. “Y/N! Please answer me. Where the hell are you?”

I immediately called him back. I hadn’t even bothered reading his texts.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Hey!” I said loudly. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had my phone on me.”

“What is wrong with you?” he shouted. “You can’t keep disappearing on me.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“Where are you?” he asked, cutting me off.

“In Sāo Paulo with Neymar,” I responded.

“What he hell?” he bellowed. “Why are you all the way over there?”

Neymar had joined me in the room. He was staring at me unsure of who was on the other side of the phone.

“He took me out here to show me his Institution, and then we came back to his house for a swim. I’ve been a little preoccupied. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten in touch with you. Is something wrong?” I asked.

Neymar walked over to the bed I was sitting on and sat down next to me.

“Nothing is wrong y/n. You can’t just drop off the face of the planet though. You have to update me.”

I looked over at Neymar who was nervously staring down at his hands. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I’ll let you know when we’re on our way back!”

“Okay,” he responded.

“I appreciate the concern. Thanks for calling.”

“Talk to you later.”


I hung up the phone then lied back on the bed.

“Rodrigo?” he asked, lying down beside me.

“Yes,” I answered. “He was getting worried about my whereabouts.”

“Is he asking for you to go back to Rio?” he asked.

I looked over at him. He looked as though someone had just died. He was visibly upset. “No,” I started. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’m not ready to bring you back,” he answered, staring up at the ceiling. “I want more time with you.”

I rolled over on top of him and sat up, my arms pinning his to the bed. “You do have time with me,” I assured him. “I’m with you right now, aren’t I?”

“It’s not enough,” he said. “…Spend the night with me.”

It caught me off guard. “Ney, I have to leave tomorrow. I can’t,” I explained.

“We can leave first thing in the morning, fly back to Rio, grab your stuff, and I’ll take you to the airport,” he said.

“I can’t do that,” I told him. “I can’t leave Rodrigo alone. I came down here for him.”

“I thought you said you two weren’t a thing,” he recalled from our first night together.

“We’re not,” I explained. “But he’s my friend, and he gave me a place to stay for the past week. I don’t want to be rude.”

“If he’s your friend, he will understand,” he shot back.

I climbed off of Neymar and stood in front of him. He sat up on the bed staring at me. “You and I are just friends Neymar, and if you were a friend, you would understand!”

After I said it, I felt bad, but it was true. He couldn’t just expect me to up and leave without spending some time with Rodrigo. He was kind enough to extend his home to me over the holiday. I couldn’t believe he was acting so selfish.

He got up from the bed, without saying a word and walked back to the front room. I stood there with my eyes closed. I was so annoyed with the way he was acting. Of course I wanted to spend as much time with Neymar as I could, but I wasn’t going to leave Rodrigo.

Once I cooled off, I walked back to the seating area. He was lying on the sofa watching TV. I walked around to him and sat down in front of him.

“I’m sorry I snapped,” I apologized. “I don’t want to leave you either, but I have no choice. Please understand that.”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at me. “Please talk to me,” I begged. “I hate being ignored.”

He still wouldn’t look at me. I couldn’t take it anymore. He was acting so childish. “If you aren’t going to talk to me, you might as well bring me back to Rio.”

He got up form the couch and turned the TV off. He walked over to where he laid his keys when we first got there. “Let’s go,” he said, walking towards the garage.

“Neymar!” I called, but he kept walking.

I followed after him. “Neymar!” I shouted, again. “Why are you acting like this?”

He stopped right before he got to the door and turned around towards me. “Just friends?” he asked. “We’re just friends?”

The question confused me. We were just friends, weren’t we? “Yes,” I replied. “Friends. Aren’t we?”

He laughed sarcastically. “So you have sex with ‘just friends’?” he asked.

I swallowed hard, feeling attacked. “I mean…”

But I couldn’t continue. He cut me off. “So you’ve hooked up with Rodrigo then?”

“No,” I answered. “It’s not like that with us.”

“What do you mean? You’re just friends, remember? You and I are just friends and we hooked up.”

“Neymar stop,” I demanded, feeling overwhelmed with how defensive he’d become. “You and I are not dating, therefore we are friends. Of course I have feelings for you though, or I wouldn’t have done it! It’s two completely different things.”

He turned to walk away. “Where are you going?” I called after him.

“You said you wanted to go back to Rio. Let’s go,” he replied, annoyed.

“I never said I wanted to go back to Rio,” I explained. “I said if you were going to continue to ignore me, you might as well take me back! What is going on with you?”

He stopped where he was then turned around to look at me. He walked over to me letting out a loud sigh. “I don’t know what’s going on with me,” he replied. “I guess I’m so defensive because I’m annoyed. I’m not ready to let you go, and I feel like once I bring you back to Rio, this ends. I’m not ready for that.”

I pulled him in for a hug. I didn’t like being attacked, but I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. “I’m not either,” I responded. “But do you think we could get along with what little time we do have left? I mean… I have to leave. It’s inevitable.”

“You don’t have to leave,” he said, pulling me out of his embrace. “Come with me to Barcelona,”

I rolled my eyes. “Neymar, I can’t just leave everything I know back home for someone I just met. That’s crazy.”

“So what if it’s crazy! Who cares?”

“I care!” I shouted. “What if I move there and it doesn’t work? I lose everything. My home, my job, my clients!”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “You don’t have to lose any of those things,” he explained. “I’m not asking you to sell it.”

“What use do I have for it if I’m in Barcelona?”

“Well… if it doesn’t work, you have something to go back to.”

“And how am I supposed to afford that?” I asked. “I’m giving up a job, remember?”

“I will pay for it until you find a job in Barcelona,” he suggested.

“I am not asking you to pay for my things. That’s ridiculous,” I bellowed. “I made a life for myself so I can support myself. I don’t want to be supported by someone else.”

“You don’t have to ask me,” he said. “I’m offering, but you have an excuse for everything, so I don’t know why I try. I think you’re just scared.”

Tears started welling up in my eyes. “You’re damn right I’m scared,” I scolded him. “Who does this kind of stuff?”

What was even crazier was that I was considering it. I was so mad at myself for allowing him to convince me into this.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have had sex,” I said.

His lips parted then quickly came back together. I could see him clenching his teeth and his fists. I immediately regretted saying it.

“What does that have to do with any of this?” he said. I’d never seen him this angry.

“Because it just made things worse now!” I answered. “It complicates things. It always does!”

“If you remember correctly, I wanted you in Barcelona with me before we had sex, so don’t act like us hooking up has changed anything between us because it hasn’t.”

“So then it meant nothing to you?” I asked, embarrassed.

He laughed sarcastically. “Oh my God! Are you trying to pick a fight?” he asked.

“Answer the question,” I demanded.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m asking you to move to Barcelona with me. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“You still didn’t answer the question,” I provoked him.

“Of course it meant something to me, y/n,” he growled. “But what does this have to do with anything?”

“Because I’m actually considering the move,” I shouted with frustration, finally admitting it. “But we can’t even get along now, so what makes you think this will work?”

He stared at me. “You’re right,” he said.

We stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. “We should head back to Rio.”

That’s not what I wanted to hear. I could feel myself fighting back the tears. I wanted him to fight for me, for us. I knew I was provoking him. That’s what I was good at, and that’s why I had so many failed relationships, but if I wanted a successful relationship, I had to stop fighting over the little things.

He started to walk out the door, and I followed after him. “Ney. I don’t want to leave yet,” I said.

“But we can’t get along,” he said, repeating my exact words. “So what’s the point?”

I picked up my pace, catching up to him. I grabbed his arm and turned him towards me.

 “A few hours ago I had every intention of going back to the states, but now, after I’ve had all of you, I’m not sure what I want.”

He looked at me in my eyes, never breaking his glare. “Do you regret it?” he asked.

I exhaled loudly. “Of course not.”

“So then come with me,” he said.


Sorry it took so long you guys. The Holidays are always a busy time of year. Hope you love it!!! Who wants Pt. 7??