Sweet as Syn

9: GREYSON-Hold up... Boobs?

"You're a fucking cheerleader." This time, I say it with pride. She's my cheerleader.

"I am. You hate it?"

I pin her hard with my eyes. "No. I love it."

Her arms tighten on my neck until our noses connect and she pushes her forehead against mine. It's mad weird seeing her all dolled up, but her chocolatey breath hits my lips and reminds me that under all this woman is my little homie. I'm aware of the couple thousand rowdy people around us, but this moment is hers and mine.

But then she squeezes around me, and I'm reminded that she has boobs. I plant her feet back to the turf because I gotta take it all in. "Don't move."

Jesus fuck. I take back my comment about her not being sexy. She's... Oh my God. There're boobs—ones that look like they'd fit perfectly in the palm of my hands—toned limbs, and a waist tiny enough to create an army of green-eyed monsters. She isn't skinny to the point where she looks malnourished; She looks strong and tight and honestly fucking edible.

"Spin around," I growl. I must see what we're dealing with from behind. But in typical Syn fashion, she does the exact opposite, stepping forward and opening her arms, but not for me.

Hunter slams into her and hauls her off her feet. I can see it in his face. He's just as awestruck as I am. But what he's not seeing when he shifts her so she's bent over his shoulder, is the most dick-hardening ass on the planet. Like, this ass should be prescribed as an alternative to Viagra. I have never in my life been more grateful for my athletic cup keeping me hidden.

Hunter reluctantly hands her off to Cameron, who is now showcasing her proudly while she covers her face in coy laughter. "Dude, look at our little grizzly bear. How cute is she!" he exclaims over the clearing crowd.

"Damn right she's fucking cute. And now our official personal cheerleader."

I grab the lock of hair held by her bow and lift her head as she's folded over Cameron's shoulder. She's fucking glowing.

"Don't let go of Cameron's hand. He'll make sure you don't get trampled in the crowd. I have to sit through a short press conference, but I'll meet you outside the locker room and we'll drive over to the club."

"You got it, QB," she says through her smile, and I can't stop myself from running my thumb over her sparkle-covered cheek before jogging off to the cameras and reporters, leaving her in good hands with my boys.

***

After a short but sweet car ride, filled with Syn boasting about us, her seeming to ride a higher high over our win than us, we made it to the already-packed club.

"I wish I could carry all of you in on my shoulders, but I can only fit one. You're going to have to fight to the death," she says through narrowed eyes, as if she's serious.

"Baby, we're all over two hundred pounds. We don't want to crush those precious legs of yours."

Why is Hunter calling her baby? Don't tell me now that he knows she's a hot cheerleader, he's suddenly going to treat her like a random broad and not our tomboy homie.

"These legs could drop-kick your ass after squatting ten reps of two hundred pounds in my sleep."

She crosses her arms, glaring at us. We are all just staring at her, trying to come to terms with the fact that our little friend is a talented, athletic smoke show.

"Is this a sexist thing? Your egos too big to be carried in by a girl?"

I chuckle, walking closer and positioning myself behind her. I know my feet will probably still drag on the ground even while I'm on her back, but I gotta show her that we are in no way sexist.