Sweet as Syn

18: SYN-You. Are. Not. Mine.

Hunter's frown is so deep, from this position it looks like he's giving me a gigantic grin as he watches Greyson toss me over his shoulder, drag me inside and up the stairs. Except, I squirmed like a fish on a hook and got myself contorted upside down with my hair sweeping the floor and my body dangling by Greyson's punishing grip under my knees.

"Greyson, you don't have to manhandle me," I squeak when his foot comes an inch from my face as he kicks his bedroom door shut. "I know I've got little legs, but I would have followed if you just asked nicely." I'm firm in my words even though I have no power in this position and secretly die a little inside every time he hauls me over his shoulder like I'm someone he needs to bring with him everywhere. "Greyson!"

Just as I think he's about to javelin throw me across his room onto his bed, he swings me upright and places me so softly, so carefully in his bed, like I'm someone precious to him.

Then he comes to sit too close next to me, his monster thigh grazing mine, our scowls mirroring one another. "You're sleeping with me tonight," he grits out, and I wince when my thighs clench because there's no way he didn't feel that.

"Wh-what? What do you mean?"

He eyes my leg. "Just sleep. You didn't have any nightmares the other night when you slept with me on the floor. So, sleep with me tonight so you're not exhausted for your exam tomorrow."

The memory of our kiss, the way he yanked me away from the party and carried me up the steps exactly like he did just now...

"Stop shaking your leg and give me an answer—"

"No."

He slaps a hand on my thigh to force my leg still. "Yes."

Thoughts clouded by his touch, I smack his hand off. I've been dreaming of the safety of his arms, guarding me from my nightmare, but he can't command me around like I'm his possession. And for him to drag me away from the guys and demand me to sleep with him right after I jokingly asked them to sleep with me... "Is this a possessive thing? The whole 'peeing on your territory' scene again?"

The question slips my mouth, and he draws his eyebrows tight in a violent glare. That does not feel good to be on the receiving end of.

"You kidding me? You're downstairs, offering your body to my boys..."

"That was a joke, obviously."

"No, not obviously. I don't want them conjuring up any more ideas than they already have of you in their heads."

We're really going to go there? Blame the girl for guys having dirty thoughts?

I stand up and create some distance between us. "What's in their heads isn't something I can control..."

"Don't play dumb," he growls. "You know exactly what you're doing."

When my eyebrows shoot up, he winces like I've bitch slapped him in his face, which I am now highly considering.

"I obviously didn't mean that."

"Oh, is it obvious, now?"

He rubs a stressed hand over his beard and through his medium-length hair. "Don't act smart with me," he mutters.

"Am I dumb or smart? At least have something solid if you're going to insult me."

He grumbles and spears both hands through his dark hair, tugging at it and causing it to stick out in every direction. I despise my traitorous fingers that quiver to touch him. "I'm not trying to insult you. Fuck. I'm not going about this well."