The Hawthorne Legacy (The Inheritance Games, #2)

by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

The walls were still a light silver-gray—the color of Grayson’s eyes.

U pay that much attention to his eyes?

“While you and Jameson were playing WWE like eight-year-olds,”

Ok who is rhea ripley

It was my best approximation of the words that Grayson had said to Jameson back at the foundation. Est unus ex nobis. Nos defendat eius. As I’d suspected, it was Latin. An online translator told me that it meant It is one of us. We protect it. Jameson’s response, Scio, meant I know. It only took me one more search to realize that the same translation would hold if it was replaced with she. She is one of us. We protect her.

This is sweet

Alisa had told me once that Mellie was “one of Nash’s.” I had no idea how many of the household staff the oldest Hawthorne brother had saved—or

I need a nash book

“I’m worried,” Oren replied, “about what you and the boys are doing. About the ghosts you’re digging up.”

“Do you trust me, Heiress?” Jameson had donned a leather jacket. He looked like trouble. The good kind. “Not even a little,” I replied, but I took the helmet from his outstretched hand, and when he climbed onto the motorcycle, I climbed on behind him.

Ok kinda iconic

“Honestly, Jamie, what does it matter?” Skye was getting impatient now. “You boys never wanted for anything. My father gave you the world. The staff spoiled you. You all had each other, and you had me. Why wasn’t that enough?” “Because,” Jameson said, his voice rough, “we didn’t really have you.”

Damn

“Your father is such a lovely man, Avery.”

What an asshole

and I would do anything for Libby.

I am here to bring the love of God to these poor, backward billionaires.

“You and I are friends. Grayson is the physical manifestation of your avoidant attachment style.

“I’m his—” Before I could get the word daughter out, Grayson leaned his head down and crushed his lips to mine. He kissed me to save me from what I’d been about to say. For a small eternity, nothing in the world existed outside of that kiss. His lips. Mine.

Oh shit

Preppy with an edge, for all the world to see—or

Shut up about the preppy with an edge