Sweet as Syn

Epilogue: SYN-Two Years Later

Gillette Stadium detonates in a howl of cheers as my boyfriend zips down the field and dives into the end zone for another spine-chilling touchdown. His new celly consists of a backflip along with his signature dolphin dive, of which he had me teach him in the cheer gym at school.

To say he is the rookie of the year might be a little biased coming from me, but the Patriots haven't had a season so flawless in years, and I'm giving all the credit to Greyson.

"That's our brother!" Parker screams, throwing one arm around me and another around Graham, who has his arms in the air, pointing to the back of his jersey.

We're all repping Decker, 17 jerseys proudly, and we're not the only ones. Thousands of fans are jumping out of their seats, cheering for Greyson, wearing his jersey. There were a few sexy rookies on the roster this year, but with Grey's dark and wicked good looks, he's gotten more attention than a baby in a room full of hormonal mothers.

When the game finishes, the Pats taking home the W with a score of 41-28 versus the Chiefs, Graham and Parker give me a big, wet kiss on my cheek like they always do after the games.

There's definitely nothing boring or reserved about the Decker brothers now. After Grey and I got back together, he sat them down and had an intervention, which thankfully was the final push they both needed to quit their job at Decker Enterprises and start up a life of their own.

Graham ended his engagement with Beth the Brick, and the two of them invested their hard earned money into a sports center for disabled kids. I swear, their entire persona's flipped, and Greyson said this is exactly like it was back when their mom was around.

Bryson Decker is not a happy camper, but now that he has all three of his sons sticking up for themselves and each other, he is powerless and has practically been forced to admit defeat. Thanksgiving the next year at Bryson's house was filled with laughter and genuine family vibes, the football game playing in the background. None of the Deckers are without their faults, but it feels damn good to be included in their family.

"Eeep!" I squeal as I jump into Greyson's arms after the game—as I've done for every game since my freshman year at Boston College.

He rips his helmet off and plants a sweaty kiss on my lips while holding my body firmly to his.

"Hey Bear," he beams with his infamous Greyson smirk, his long hair sticking to his forehead with his sweat.

"Rookie of the year, I'm telling you. You're incredible, Grey."

"Thanks, baby." He grips the back of my head and plants his forehead to mine. "It's still so weird having you run up to me, not wearing your sexy little cheer uniform."

"No, what's weird is that you're in the National freaking Football League," I chuckle, giving him a sweet, lingering kiss before he plants me back on my feet.

"So weird, right?" Yeah, Mr. Cocky is now humbled. Sort of. Who woulda thunk? "And for the uniform, as much as I love seeing you in it, I think I might like seeing you rep my jersey a tiny bit more." He ruffles my hair before wrapping his hand around my waist. "Come, there's someone I want you to meet."

"Oh my fook, Jim Whalen..."

The Patriots' athletic trainer! I don't think I've ever fangirled so hard. Screw Greyson, I have heart eyes for this average looking middle-aged man who's been the Pats' trainer for the past twenty years.

"Jim, this is my girlfriend, Synamie Blake," Greyson introduces, and I no longer hate the way my name sounds. Not when he says it. "Despite her abnormal choice of curse words, she's bloody brilliant. Top of her class for the past two years now."