The Brothers Hawthorne

When words are real enough, when they’re the exact right words, when what you’re saying matters, when it’s beautiful and perfect and true—it hurts.

Let the rest of the players think I’m dealing with daddy issues. Hawthornes have grandaddy issues instead.

Repeat after me, Gray: My feelings are valid.” “Stop talking,” Grayson ordered. “My emotions are real,” Xander continued. “Go on. Say it.” “I’m hanging up on you now.” “Who’s your favorite brother?” Xander called loudly enough that Grayson could still hear him even as he removed the phone from his ear. “Nash,” he answered loudly. “Lies!” Grayson’s phone vibrated. “I’m getting another call,” he told Xander. “More lies!” Xander said happily. “Give my regards to Girl Grayson!” “Good-bye, Xander.” “You said good-b—

Some of us exist just a little too loudly for the comfort of those who would prefer we did not exist at all

I never meant to hurt you," Grayson told her. "I know," Gigi said simply. She's not leaving. I haven't lost her. Grayson didn't ignore the emotions twisting in his gut and rising up inside him. For once in his life, he just let them come. "I like my sister," he told her. This time, there was nothing pained about Gigi's smile. "I know.

I'm not good at losing people." Grayson paused. "Either that," he continued hoarsely, "or I am exceptionally good at losing people.

Screw Ian. Jameson didn't need Ian. It was--now and always--Jameson and Avery against the world

If you want, Mystery Girl, you can start calling me Mystery Boy." -Jameson

I'll have you know that most celebrity sites rank me as the second-hottest Hawthorne." -Jameson

It always came down to power and control—who had them, who didn’t, who would lose them first

When you're old enough, when you're ready, be warned: There is nothing frivolous about the way a Hawthrone man loves.

He saw the stylists first, then Avery, and once he saw Avery, it was like he couldn’t see anything else.

The world is kinder to winners

Once you see that web of possibilities laid out in front of you, unencumbered by fear of pain or failure, by thoughts telling you what can and cannot, should and should not be done… What will you do with what you see?

And Nash? He’s going to kill you—and me.” “Libby won’t let him. Killing bad. Cupcakes good.

You don’t have pockets,” she said slowly. “Only abs.” She frowned. “Brothers should not have abs.” “I agree,” Xander said solemnly. “Put on some clothes, man!

I am asking you," she continued fiercely, "to remember that this matters." His pain. His body. "You matter.

Where angels fear to tread, have your fun instead.” Rohan’s voice was almost musical, but there was something dark in his tone. A promise. One that Jameson suspected that men in Rohan’s position had been making for centuries. “But be warned: The house always wins.

Which one of those explains your face?" Nash asked Jameson. The bruises and swelling clearly suggested that their brother had been in one hell of a fight. "Some faces need no explanation," Jameson replied. He gestured to his own. "Work of art.

Everything about her killed him in the best possible way.

It was made with love,” Xander told him. “Just like I tackle with love.” “No tackling,” Nash said.

Because when you love a woman or a man or anyone the way we love, there is no going back.

Then why haven’t you noticed I’m not your only tail?” —Nash

Jameson thought about what he’d written down, and it took everything in him not to look at Avery, because suddenly, her presence here didn’t seem like a boon. It was a risk. After all, Jameson could hear the Proprietor saying, these things are always more interesting when at least a few players have “skin in the game.” Anyone reading those words would be bad. Avery reading them would open Pandora’s box.

H, the word is, two lowercase letters at the very end: v and e.

All one really has to do to win is control the players

Most people considered power and weakness opposites, but Grayson had learned early in life that the real opposite of weakness was control.