Sweet as Syn

11: GREYSON-Sorry for Flashing Your Roommate

Eight years. Eight years ago, at my mom's bedside, watching her slowly decay in front of my eyes, was the last time I let any emotion other than anger show through. I cried my little heart out for her. She died that night, and by the time she was in the ground, I was already a hardened, darker version of myself, masking my pain with a cold, cocky front. Mom was the last tie to my innocence, my childhood, and she took my nickname—Grey—to her grave. The name was reserved solely for her, only she could call me that.

Until last night when Syn touched my fucking soul and claimed the name as her own. Now she's the only one allowed to call me that.

She's getting dangerously close. I mean, I cried in the girl's arms for fuck's sake. Maybe that would explain why I keep screwing up with her. I'm getting addicted. All I want is to be near her, but I can't even do that without whipping my dick out or bringing naked girls around like I'm some pervy sex addicted fuck. I don't know how to act.

And it seems I'm finally being punished for all the cruel things I've done in my life. I mean, I was surrounded by very beautiful, very horny, very available women on their knees, mouths watering for a taste. And what happens? My dick? Fails me, refuses to get up for anyone. My mind? Drifts to my best friend. My body? Finds a ride home, then pulls off the side of the road when I spot the girl haunting my every thought.

The worst part? She doesn't seem to need me, crave me like I do her. But you know what? Whether she liked it or not, something shifted between us last night. She might not trust me or need me or crave me, but I get the feeling she lets no one in, trusts no one, and relies on no one. Yet, she opened her arms for me, bulldozed through my rough exterior, and touched something deep. I let her see a level of vulnerability I didn't even know I possessed, and she didn't laugh at me or make me feel any less powerful, less of a man. She didn't suck the soul up that was exposed to her. She just stayed silent and held on until I was ready to take it back.

And what did I do to thank her? I flashed her twat waffle roommate while she was lying right there, hiding under the covers.

***

"You seriously stood there with your dick out, having a full-blown conversation with her roommate right in front of her?" Brooklyn reiterates as if he didn't hear me right the first time.

I lower my head in my hands, then reach around and pull at my hair. Fuckkkk.

"The fuck, bro? Why were you naked in her room in the first place?" Cameron asks, sounding a little pissed off.

"I don't really know. I just found her running on my way home—"
"—From the orgy you refused to participate in," Hunter fills in for me.

"So I ran with her, then we fell asleep."

"Then you whipped your cock out," Hunter adds, finishing the story off. Thanks, bud.

"Dude," Brooklyn scoffs, and they all laugh in pity. "You're an idiot."

"I swear if you scared Syn off, I'll fuck you up," Hunter warns.

"I know, alright. Fuck. I'll fix this," I promise.

Remembering she said she'll never say no to food, I shoot her a text: Lunch on me? I promise to keep my pants on.

Dozens of notifications pop up, and I'm mortified for my heart, because dude keeps jumping with each one, thinking it's her. Instead, the sorority girls somehow got my number, probably from Amber, and passed it around. Now my phone is blowing up with nudes. I'm talking titty with nipples showing, vaginas spread wide open, videos with dildos and shit... and all I give a crap about is that one text from Syn.