Not just Number Ten (James Rodriguez)

One

    Emma's POV

      "I keep, going to the river to pray, cause I need. Something that could wash out the pain."

     "And at most, I'm sleeping all these demons away, but your ghost, the ghost of you it gets in the way." I belted out the lyrics of "ghost" by Ella Henderson, along with my best friend Sarah.

      "Would you guys shut up? I'm on the phone." my boyfriend walked into the hotel room. I rolled my eyes, knowing he wasn't joking.

     "Sorry babe," I apologized, knowing I had to. He smirked with satisfaction and pressed his lips to mine. I saw Sarah grimace from the the corner of my eye, and I really couldn't blame her. I really hated him.

    "Not now Cris." I pushed Cristiano Ronaldo away. He shot me a disapproving look and stalked off to the bathroom. If there's anything that my boyfriend hates most, it's rejection. And being compared to Lionel Messi, but right now, that fact is extraneous.

    "Why do you stay with him?" Sarah asked with a groan, even though she already knew the answer. Because my father was in love with him. Not like that-ew-but he worshipped Cristiano as a soccer player. I'll admit he's pretty good, but he's as arrogant as it gets. Call it an arranged relationship. I swear if one more person says they hear wedding bells, I will cut a bitch.

     "You know I don't have a choice."

    Sarah let out a sigh, and continued packing her bag. We were in a hotel in the states, because of a tournament Real Madrid played in.

    "At least Toni's transferring, so you'll finally be able to talk to someone else on the team."

    Toni Kroos was my younger brother. He played for FC Bayern, but is tranferring to Real. I honestly don't fully support his decision, but he's my brother, so I'll deal with it. Plus, Sarah had a point. Cris had major jealousy issues, so I wasn't really allowed to converse with any other guy on the team- or the planet for that matter. When I was at the World Cup supporting both Germany and Portugal, Cris caught me talking to Thomas Mueller from Germany before the game. Rumor has it Cris has got something on his teamate Pepe, so he got him to headbutt Thom during the game. The thought is really sickening.

    "True. Are there any other tranfers?" I asked curiously. Sarah ran her fingers through her long, brown hair.

    "Um, Marcelo- the Brazilian defender. I think he played on Paris St. Germain before." she guessed. I nodded, recalling reading about it. I could've sworn there was someone else though. I pushed the thought aside- it wasn't important.

    "Yo Emmsies, can you make me a fruit salad!" Cris called from the bathroom. I sighed.

    "No! I'm busy!" I called back. 3..2..1.. Cristiano appeared at the door.

    "That wasn't a question. It was an order." he scoffed. I rolled my eyes again.

    "What am I, your slave?" I asked, but got up and trudged to the kitchen. I hate him so freaking much, but I can't leave him. My father loves him, and after what happened with mom, he's really concerned with finding someone wealthy and good enough for me. It would break my dad's heart to stray from Cris. I had to do this.

    It had it's perks, of course. Cris isn't always such a bitch. He can be really caring every now and then, showing up with random gifts, writing love poems. I guess he just sucks at being kind. Besides, he travels a lot so I don't see him all that often, and have time to myself in the mansion with Netflix, wifi, and a hot tub.

Wow, I sound like such a gold digging whore.

Oh well.

I chopped up bananas, strawberries and threw some grapes in two bowls.

    "Salad's ready!" I shouted. I would've made Sarah one, but I know she likes to stay as far away from my novio as possible. Seconds later, Cris appeared beside me, freshly shaved and smelling strongly of axe. I inhaled the scent and let out a moan. As much as I hated Cris, he always smelled amazing.

    "Enjoying yourself?" I heard. I opened my eyes and realized my nose was pointing up and I was sniffing quite loudly.

    "Sorry, you just smell so good." I said. I wrinkled my forehead. "I think I have a cologne fetish."

   Cris let out a laugh. A loud, booming laugh. It was pretty hot. He loves jokes and sarcastic comments, as long as they're not directed toward him. 

    "You're cute Emmsies." he said. 

    "I know." 

    He grinned and pinched my nose. He then turned to his bowl and took a bite. 

     "Delicious babe."

    I knew better then to immediately take the compiment. I waited for a negative response. "But you know I hate it when the grapes squirt their juice all over the other fruits." 

    I let out a sigh. "Sorry" I said. Not.  He shrugged. "It's cool. Just don't do it again." I rolled my eyes (I do that a lot) and took a bite myself. 

    "Where's Sarah?" Cris asked.

    "Other room."

    "Get her, I have some news."

    I raised my eye brow. Since when does Cris actually inform us on what's going on? Last week I was awoken by a guy knocking on my door at 2 am, saying he was to take me to New York for the tourney.

   "Okay," I said, and called out for Sarah. Cris rolled his eyes.

   "What?" I asked innocent;y.

    "If I wanted you to yell, I could've just done it myself."

    I shrugged as Sarah appeared at the door.

   "Yes?"

    "Change of plans. Instead of a direct flight back to Spain, we're making a stop in Colombia." he said casually. I made a face.

    "Why?"

    "To pick up a new Real Madrid transfer. He's great- you probably know him." he stated. Sarah and I exchanged looks, and waited for him to continue.

    "You've heard of James Rodriguez, right?"

James Rodriguez. I know that guy. And damn, he is one, hot tamale.