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Kindle Notes & Highlights
This is going to be a story about the Lynch brothers.
Adam. Adam Parrish was the destination of this road trip. Is there any version of you that could come with me to Cambridge? Adam had asked the day he left.
Adam. Ronan missed him like a lung.
Ronan’s attention stuck on his hands. Lovely boyish hands with prominent knuckles, gaunt and long like his unfamiliar face.
This is so close to the description of Adam from the previous series, I cry.
They knew who they were. Adam, a scholar. Ronan, a dreamer. Is there any version of you that could come with me to Cambridge? Maybe. Maybe.
“I didn’t recognize you,” they both said at the same time.
“This is fucking weird,” Ronan said, and Adam laughed in a haggard, relieved way. They hugged, hard.
This was as Ronan remembered it. Adam’s ribs fit against his ribs just as they had before. His arms wrapped around Adam’s narrow frame the same way they had before. His hand still pressed against the back of Ronan’s skull the way it always did when they hugged. His voice was missing his accent, but now it sounded properly like him as he murmured into Ronan’s skin: “You smell like home.” Home.
Is there any version of you that could come with me to Cambridge? No.
Gansey texted back: don’t make me get on a plane I’m currently chained to one of the largest black walnut trees in Oregon
Declan left his untouched because he hadn’t brought an antacid and his stomach was a ruin as usual.
Declan the king of tummy aches
“My dauntless Declan,” Aurora said, and then she slid softly to the floor. The orphans Lynch.
Jordan glanced up at him. He was young and handsome in a way so in line with cultural expectations that his appearance passed through attraction straight into boredom. His
hair was carefully tousled and curled, his facial hair carefully allowed to shadow his chin in an orderly fashion. He had good teeth, good skin. Very blue eyes. He was inoffensive in every way. She said, “And, what, another
remember when everyone got to this part and everyone denied Declan had facial hair because I do I was there and yeah Declan can't grow a beard to save his life
Ronan dreamt of summer, of Adam.
“Thank God,” Declan said, retrieving his car keys. “You can if you like,” Matthew said. “But I dressed myself.” He shot a look at Ronan to make sure his joke had been funny.
I love Matthew so baby
He texted Adam: you up? Adam replied immediately. Yes.
“I just want to know,” Adam said finally, in a slightly different voice from before, “that when I come for break, you’ll be there.” “I’ll be here.”
She glimpsed a figure on the other side of the lobby, studying one of the marble statues. His back was to her, and his gray suit was unspecific and anonymous, but nonetheless she felt certain she recognized the posture, the curled dark hair.
She sidled by him. He was not as dull-looking as the photos and her memory had suggested. Already she had forgotten that he was handsome. It seemed a strange thing to forget.
A handwritten label on the outside read: Tyrian purple.
She hid this all behind her wide smile before slipping the jar into her own pocket. “Crumbs. I won’t, then. I’ll utter your name when I paint something with it.” “Say it now,” he said, and he nearly let himself smile. Nearly. “Declan,” she said, but had to cut her eyes away because she could feel herself grinning, and not the slick grin she normally gave away. Fuck, she thought. “Jordan,” he said, trying it, and she blinked up, surprised.
they are both so sexy
They hugged again, merrily, waltzing messily in the kitchen, and kissed, merrily, waltzing more.
Declan wasn’t a huggable Lynch, but Matthew had never cared.
While you were out doing fuck all with yourself, he figured out you dreamt him. So no, we are not. Still. Hitting. The. Zoo.”
THIS PART IS SO FUNNY BUT ALSO SO SAD POOR BABY MATTHEW
It was one o’clock in the morning. He was very awake. This was a side effect of not taking his sleeping pill. This was a side effect of Jordan Hennessy calling him at midnight.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked. She put the car into gear with the thoughtless certainty of someone who has been in cars so often they are just another part of their body. “How do you feel about being the first Jordan Hennessy original?”
Declan texted him: You leaving me to deal with Matthew today? and Ronan answered with only Dad’s working, sweetie.
“This is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.” It was an interesting way to frame it, but it wasn’t wrong. It was a thing acted upon the creature that was Matthew Lynch. Ronan had imposed existence on him. Declan had decided for him how it would be easiest to bear it, knowing full well it would be disastrous if the truth came out. Yes, they had done it to him. Yes, Declan accepted blame for it.
You just know now that Dad bought your social security number on the black market.” “He did what?”
I had different intentions for our next d … get-together,” Declan said, and Jordan heard him cautiously place his foot upon the word date before deciding it wouldn’t hold him.
He tapped away at his phone. He had a peculiar way of texting—he used his thumb on one hand, his index finger on the other. Odd. Charming. Without looking up, he murmured, “Thank you very much. Right at the next light.”
Declan pookie
“Go on, tell it,” she said eventually, as they moved through the dormant rose garden. “Tell what?” “I know you must have a story about this place you’re dying to tell.” He smirked a little. “I don’t know very much about it.” “Liar.” “That’s what they tell me.”
The man hesitated, then reached a hand out toward Declan. “Can I—I don’t know if I’ll see you again like this.” Declan didn’t draw back, and so the man stepped forward and put his arms around Declan’s neck. He hugged him, the simple, complete hug of a parent hugging a son, hand on the back of his neck, cheek rested against the back of his head.
THAT’S HOW DECLAN HUGS RONAN I AM SOBBING
Ronan texted someone as they were walking. Hennessy saw only that the contact was labeled MANAGEMENT. “Who’s that?” “Adam,” Ronan said. “I’m telling him I’m going in so that he’ll know where to find me if days go by.” Days?
