Despite Neymar's condition, he continued to make a mess of the kitchen. I try my best to clean up after him but it is no use. I'll have to clean this up tomorrow.

"Who are you?" Neymar slurs, making his already bad English worse.

He stumbles a bit but rebalances himself, using the counter top to pull himself towards me. Drunken Neymar cups my face and pulls at my skin, stretching it. I stand still and watch him, feeling the roughness of his large hands against my cheeks. His eyes never meet my gaze but I can't help but stare at how beautiful they really are. As if every high quality picture I've ever seen is nothing compared to the real thing.

The contrast between his dark skin makes them even more remarkable, and if I wasn't already angry at this irresponsible Neymar, I would've enjoyed him being so close to me. He laughs and continues, but I swat him away. This has to stop. I take a step back and stand my ground, hoping Neymar will comprehend my body language. When he doesn't, Neymar furrows his brows and follows my movement, but I stop him.

"I am your Au Pair, and I came downstairs to tell you that you've woken up your son." Keeping myself firm, I head back upstairs to my bedroom. Leaving him behind. I make sure to lock the door, not wanting to take any chances of Neymar intruding in the middle of the night.

Once under the covers, I let myself shut my eyes and listen to the footsteps ascending the stairs. To his futbol fans, Neymar was a God. But to me, he was irresponsible. Any worthy image I've ever held up to him was gone, replaced with disappointment. How can a man so important, come home drunk knowing his two year old son was asleep? A sigh escapes my lips and I find myself slowly getting off topic the longer I lay in this cloud of sheets.

Early the next morning, I decide to clean up the mess from last night. I spend my time carefully throwing away any broken glass or picking up any food left laying around. Neymar really nows how to mess up his own house. I wipe any water from my hands onto my pajama bottoms, simply being too lazy to change or use a cloth.

Finishing up, I prepare scramble eggs for everyone, including Neymar. I eat in solitude, not wanting to wait until Prince William and his son decide when to wake up.

Aimlessly I walk around the breakfast table, assuring everything is set when I notice movement coming from the entryway. I turn and see Neymar sober and shirtless, with David in his arms. Skimming his hard abdomen, my face reddens at the sight of how low the waistband of his underwear really is.

"Rory, is it?" Neymar asks me, bringing David to his chair.

I nod. "I truly am sorry for what happened. I had no idea you would be here with David so soon."

Neymar takes a few steps forward as I speak, "What you do is your business sir. I just don't want it happening again that's all."

Although I hold a neutral expression, my insides are screaming at him to stay away. The closer him and his muscles get to me, the more I struggle in keeping my cool. The amount of self control it has took me to not throw myself at this man is insane. If I hadn't already lost all my respect for Neymar, he wouldn't be the only one shirtless here. Wait...

Instantly my face heats as my body reminds me that I'm still wearing my thin, navy pajama top. I casually try to cross my arms, praying that Neymar was looking at my necklace and not something else.

"Please, call me Neymar. Sir is for my manager."

He holds out his hand and my heart stops. There was no way I was going to refuse him, but that meant uncrossing my arms and I can't do that either! An internal conflict rages on inside me as I take his hand anyway.

On the second shake I pull away, crossing my arms again. A confused expression fills his features followed by his eyes lowering.

Horrified I quickly thank Neymar and storm off towards my bedroom. Where I don't have to worry about whether or not I'm wearing a bra.

As the day goes on, Neymar spends most of his time in David's room. Playing with him I assume.

Out of boredom I spend the day cleaning and picking up any dirty laundry. I pass David's room when I overheared Neymar singing a soft lullaby. Of course I didn't understand what he was saying, but I couldn't resist ease dropping.

I listened intently as the sound of his usually deep voice became soothing and pleasant as he sang along. If Neymar wasn't already a futbolista, I'd say he'd be singing his heart out right about now.

Smiling to myself I carefully make way down the hall. Without giving much thought I open the closest door and enter the room, and almost dropping the laundry basket. This room was bigger than mine and David's room combined!

A large TV screen covered the wall facing a bed big enough to house the Kardashians. Large trophy's were ordered neatly with medals and jerseys. I swallow hard and realize that I've just entered Neymar's room for the first time.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

"Rory?" I spin around and see Neymar holding the doorknob.

I had no idea if his room was off limits, and I would understand if that was the case. "I'm sorry I was just cleaning up! I had no idea sir."

"Neymar, Not sir. And its alright I understand. No need to feel like you're breaking a law or sacred rules."

Relieved I nod, making a dash for the door. Before I can descend the stairs Neymar calls out. "I just came to inform you I'll be going out tonight!"

I freeze on the first step, he would be drinking again? After what just happened?

"No need to worry, I'll be fine this time."

As if he read my mind I nod and continue on with chores. The rest of the night passes by and I find myself missing Neymar's presence.

I shake the idea from my head whenever I tuck in David. Neymar was my boss, nothing more nothing less.

That night I never heard a sound from Neymar's return and decide he must've followed through with his word.

The next morning I bring David downstairs and find the house surprisingly clean. It was late so I thought it'd be a good idea and bring coffee up to Neymar's room.

The way up I juggled the cup between my hands careful not to spill any of the hot liquid on myself. I open the door expecting to see to see Neymar sound asleep and covering from a mini hangover, but instead I find him sprawled across the bed with a tall brunette next to him. Both nude.

In shock of seeing them together naked I try and cover my eyes. An unfamiliar feeling overwhelms me, tasting an awful bitterness inside my mouth. Of course Neymar has a girlfriend, and I felt foolish to think this wasn't a normal occurrence.

To my demise, the cup spills onto the floor when trying to close the door again. The woman hears me curse and gives a small yelp, enough to wake up Neymar.

He sits up and cocks his head to one side, "Rory?"

I stutter my words backing out of the room, "I'm sorry sir! I-I was just bringing you some coffee! I'm so sorry!"

Neymar calls out but I already am half way to the kitchen in a full sprint. The red lessens from my face as I take David into his play room and lay next to him. Trying my best to forget my rude intrusion I join David and play along with his race cars.

The front door opens and closes and I safely assume she left. Sighing I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. At least I wouldn't have to face her again after what happened.

I continue and play with David, allowing myself to laugh along with him. He has an adorable laugh.

"He likes you."

I jump up, startled to see Neymar leaning against the doorway.

"I'm so sorry sir I-" He cuts me off with a lift of his finger.

"Her name is Bruna. And don't worry she doesn't hold anything against you." He laughs lightly, taking a few steps forward.

"Oh."

I notice his hair is still messy from sleep and I can't decide whether I like it or not. "I was just trying to bring you some coffee I had no idea that would happen."

Once in front of me, Neymar places a hand under my chin. Sending shivers down my spine.

"Look its okay, I'm sorry you had to see that. I expect this won't ruin our friendship."

Friendship?

He chuckles softly letting go, "I mean, we are going to live together for a while. So might as well be friends, right?"

I take in his offer and accept. Hopefully the awkwardness dies down a bit before we can see each other as 'friends'.

Eventually Neymar joins his son, but I can't seem to forget the way 'friendship' sounded coming from his lips. Warmth fills my face as I remember the feeling of his hand against my face.

Despite the fact of me witnessing the aftermath of Neymar and his girlfriend, I remind myself that being friends was just that. Friends. Then if that was the case, why was I feeling their was something more in his choice words?

Nervously I sit and join Neymar. Forgetting any doubts I had about him, I playfully join in the fun. If we were going to be friends, why not start now?

-

Hey guys! I just want to thank everyone who's been voting and don't be afraid to comment! lol

Sorry about some of the grammar I promise I'll fix that. And also I'll be posting everyday or at least evey other day, so don't worry about only having 3 chapters I have big plans for this book!

-B