Sweet as Syn

12: GREYSON-Truth or Dare

"Symanie! Oh, wait, is it Synonymonie? Symimonie? Whatever, hi! We missed you," Hunter slurs over the blaring music as he pulls Syn into a tight hug, practically falling on top of her. At first, I tense up, but when I hear her little giggle of joy, my muscles relax. Hunter sometimes likes to take it a drink or a joint—if he really wants me to murder his ass—too far, but he wouldn't in a million years hurt any girl, especially Syn. "We were worried Greyson's penis would scare you off." Great, thanks, Hunter.

"I've seen scarier things," she startles me by saying, and my mind drifts back to our conversation. It physically pains me imagining the things she had to see growing up with a drug addict. "I'm not going anywhere."

Hunter stands up straight from the hug, taking his weight off her, then bends down and grabs her cheeks, giving her one of his intense looks. Except, this isn't like the one he uses on the field or with other girls. This look is intimate, like he's desperate for her word. "Good. Don't ever."

... Ummm...

Before I have a chance to analyze this situation, Brooklyn saunters over and eliminates all tension. "Hi sweetheart, wanna take some shots?"

"I definitely want to get on whatever level Hunter is on," she taunts, jabbing his side as his arm slings over her like she's his crutch. "But I think I should put him in bed first."

I'm honestly a little shocked he doesn't put up a fight. His bloodshot eyes just look down at her like she holds all the secrets to the universe. Yeah, he's not in his right mind right now.

Syn passes a glance between Brooklyn and I, maybe like she's asking permission, and we both nod. I don't particularly want her to have to deal with him on her own, but he looks like he needs her tonight. I can understand that.

SYN

"Jesus Christ, Hunter. You're heavy as shit," I grunt while I drag him up the steps to his room, his muscular arm draped over me.

"I'm twoooo hundred and fifty pounds. Fifteen. Two hundred fifteen pounds," he slurs, smirking down at me.

"Congratulations." I try not to be too sarcastic because obviously something is up with him that he felt the need to die tonight. He reeks of whiskey and weed. I wanted to quickly take him to his room before Greyson could smell him, because I had a feeling he might rip Hunt a new one for smoking during the season. "Okay," I sigh, shoving him onto his bed. "Here we go." I pull his heavy tree trunk limbs so none of them are hanging over.

"I really was scared, Syn," he mumbles, chuckling a little while I struggle to baby him.

"Don't be." I think to keep the next part to myself because that's just what I do, but after tonight, I don't think it's necessary anymore with my guys. "You four are my everything. You mean too much for me to walk away."

His answering doting look makes me glad I said it. I don't know what I did to deserve these heart-stuttering looks from these boys, but I must have done something right. "Hunter, are you okay? Why were you smoking tonight?"

He pats the bed next to him, and I take a seat. His eyes are glossy and distant tonight, and still, he is one of the most beautiful people I've ever laid my eyes on. "You ever wanna... You ever have anything bad... really bad..." he drifts off, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Do you really want to have this conversation right now? You might say something you don't really want me to hear." I want to hear everything Hunter has to say. I want to know him. But I'm giving him an out.

"Can you please get me some water, sweetheart?"

He swallows down the water bottle I find on his shelf and hand to him, then he reaches for his pants and goes to pull them down.