Inheritance Games Grayson Quotes

Est unus ex nobis. Nos defendat eius." She is one of us. We protect her.

Grayson told me. “I wanted her to be you.” “Don’t say that,” I whispered. He looked at me one last time. “There are so many things that I will never say.

Grayson Hawthorne was arrogant enough to consider himself bulletproof—and honorable enough to see a promise through to its end.

This was the Grayson I’d met weeks ago: dripping power and well aware that he could come out on top in any battle. He didn’t make threats, because he didn’t have to.

Grayson was Not Pleased - and no one did Not Pleased like Grayson Hawthorne.

Sometimes you have an idea of a person — about who they are, about what you'd be like together. But sometimes that's all that it is: an idea. And for so long, I have been afraid that I loved the idea of Emily more than I will ever be capable of loving anyone real.” He looked at me like the act of doing so was painful and sweet. “It was never just the idea of you, Avery.

Everything hurts.” Only Grayson Hawthorne could say that and still sound utterly bulletproof. “It hurts all the time, Avery, but I know the man I was raised to be.

But this... us..." He swallowed. "It can't happen, Avery. I've seen the way Jameson looks at you.

I’d promised Grayson secrecy, but this was Hawthorne House. Most of the occupants were far too clever for their own good—or anyone else’s.

Nash. Grayson. Jameson. Xander.” He said their names one at a time. “You were the clay, and I was the sculptor, and it has been the joy and honor of my life to make you better men than I will ever be. Men who may curse my name but will never forget it.

You hated the idea of me.” “But not you. Never you.” “I wanted Eve to be different,” Grayson told me. “I wanted her to be you.” “Don’t say that,” I whispered. He looked at me one last time. “There are so many things that I will never say.

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

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.

The world bent to the will of Grayson Hawthorne. What money couldn't buy him, those eyes probably did.

Some people can make mistakes, make amends, and move on. And some of us live with each and every mistake we make carved into us, into hollow places we don't know how to fill.

Sometimes you have an idea of a person — about who they are, about what you'd be like together. But sometimes that's all that it is: an idea. And for so long, I have been afraid that I loved the idea of Emily more than I will ever be capable of loving anyone real.” He looked at me like the act of soing so was painful and sweet. “It was never just the idea of you, Avery.

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. For show.

I told you she was special,” Jameson murmured as Grayson continued closing in on him. “And I told you to stay away from her.” Grayson stopped, just out of Jameson’s reach.

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—

I moved on from Emily,” he said. “Gray didn’t. And I know in my soul that if he had, he could have loved you. He would have.

So,” Libby said sagely, “chess.” “Chess,” I repeated. “The move—it’s called the Queen’s Gambit. Whoever’s playing white puts that second pawn in a position to be sacrificed, which is why it’s considered a gambit.” “Why would you sacrifice a piece?” Libby asked. I thought about billionaire Tobias Hawthorne, about Toby, about Jameson, Grayson, Xander, and Nash. “To take control of the board,” I said.

Est unis ex nobis. Nos defendat eius Grayson Hawthorne Scio Jameson Hawthorne

It was never just the idea of you, Avery.” I tried not to feel like the ground was suddenly moving underneath my feet. “You hated the idea of me.” “But not you.” The words were just as sweet, just as painful. “Never you.

She sought Sheffield Grayson out, Avery. The man blamed our family for his nephew’s death. He slept with her out of spite. God knows why Skye did it, but I was the result.

Grayson wanted me safe, and I wasn’t.

I'm not your penance, Grayson Hawthorne.

Two,” I said now, just as I had then, but this time I couldn’t help wondering if Jameson was talking about a different kind of triangle—about him and Grayson and me.

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

No,” Max corrected. “You and I are friends. Grayson is the physical manifestation of your avoidant attachment style. He won’t let himself want you. You don’t want to want to be wanted. Everybody stays at arm’s length. Nobody gets hurt, and nobody gets any.

Grayson jerked to a halt, every muscle in his body taut. “Don’t you say her name.” His posture was angry, but his voice sounded like it was about to crumble. Like I’d gutted him. Not just Jameson. My mouth went dry. Emily didn’t just matter to Jameson.

Grayson thinks you’re some master manipulator. My aunt is convinced you must have Hawthorne blood. But I think you’re the old man’s final riddle—one last puzzle to be solved.” He took another step, bringing the two of us that much closer. “He chose you for a reason, Avery. You’re special, and I think he wanted us—wanted me—to figure out why.

Grayson was looking at me differently now, like in all his travels, he’d never encountered anything quite like this. Like me.

Sometimes, you have an idea of a person - about who they are, about what you'd be like together. But sometimes that's all it is: an idea.

If anything happens to her, I will hold you personally responsible." - Grayson Hawthorne

But after reading even just a couple of my mom’s postcards? It was getting harder to ignore Grayson’s presence beside me, harder not to think about Jameson. My eyes stung, even though there was zero reason for me to be crying.

You’ve really never heard of this guy?” Thea asked. “He’s rich and powerful and hates your family’s guts, and you’ve never even heard his name?” “You know as well as I do,” Grayson replied, “that there are different kinds of rich.

Identify the assumptions implicit in your own logic," Grayson said, clearly citing a dictate he'd been taught. "Then negate them.

Grayson was Not Please-and no one did Not Pleased like Grayson Hawthrone.

I'm supposed to be stronger than this. I wanted to be stronger than this. For you"... "You don't have to be anything for me, Grayson." I wait until he opens his eyes, until he's looking at me. "This," I say. "You. It's enough"... "It will never be enough.

Grayson Hawthorne had kissed me, and I’d kissed him back.

Grayson looked at me the way you look at art in a glass case, like he wanted to reach out to touch me but couldn’t.

Knowing about Eve and letting her be raised by people who treated her as less than? Pretending that our family owed Toby’s daughter nothing? There’s nothing honorable about that.” Grayson shook. “Any of it.

Heiress, before we start spilling secrets, I'm going to need you to promise me a plane.' 'A plane?' I gave him an incredulous look. 'You have several.' Jameson smiled. 'I want to borrow one.' 'Why do you need a plane?' Grayson asked suspiciously. Jameson waved away the question. 'Fine,' I told him. 'You can take one of my planes.' Yet another sentence I never thought I'd say.

I flashed back to the moment he’d kissed me. I’d kissed him back. Since then we hadn’t even managed to look at each other. We hadn’t really talked. So why was he calling now? Where is he? “Hello?” I answered. “Avery.” Grayson lingered on my name, just for a moment.

Got any cookies?" Grayson asked quietly. "I always have cookies!" Xander disappeared into the suite's kitchen and came back with a half-empty package of double-stuffed Oreos and the single tallest Oreo that Grayson had ever seen. "Octuple-stuffed Oreo?" Xander offered.

Rebecca’s been forbidden from seeing any of us.” Xander grimaced. “Her mom said that the Hawthorne family takes and takes. She said that we don’t play by any rules and don’t care who we hurt. She blames our family for Toby’s death.” “And Emily’s,” Grayson added roughly.

Grayson felt his eyes turn to slits. "Not now, Alexander." "Too fresh?" Xander asked. "Sorry, double sorry, triple, up to and including octuple sorry. You needed someone to get you out of your own head, and Nash keeps telling me that there are times when tackling people is inappropriate." "Most times," Nash said. Xander was not so convinced. "Personally, I think tackling is a valid love language, but let's not debate semantics here.

Nothing has to matter,” Grayson replied tightly, “unless you let it.

Beauty is the minimum," Grayson replied. But technique without artistic sensibility is worthless. (He looked down at the rests of the violin he had broken.) Beauty is a decoy.

Beauty was expected,” Grayson replied. “Technique without artistry is worthless.” He looked down at the remains of the violin he’d destroyed. “Beauty is a lie.

Grayson was Not Pleased-and no one did Not Pleased like Grayson Hawthorne.

Promises mattered to Grayson Hawthorne—and so did Avery Kylie Grambs. The girl who had inherited their grandfather’s fortune. The stranger who had become one of them.

Why would you sacrifice a piece?” Libby asked. I thought about billionaire Tobias Hawthorne, about Toby, about Jameson, Grayson, Xander, and Nash. “To take control of the board,” I said.

Do you know why Jameson was daddys favorite when by all rights it should have been perfect, dutiful Grayson?" "It wasn't because my Jamie is brilliant or beautiful or charismatic. It was because Jameson Winchester Hawthorne is hungry.

I was dumbfounded. How can a house “not exactly” have a roller coaster? Beside me, Grayson snorted. I caught him looking at me and narrowed my eyes. “What?” “Nothing,” Grayson said, the tilt of his lips suggesting otherwise. “It’s just… you have a very expressive face.” No. I didn’t. Libby was always saying that I was hard to read. My poker face had single-handedly been funding Harry’s breakfasts for months. I wasn’t expressive.

My mother’s postcards,” I whispered, and took off running. Oren bolted after me, and the others weren’t far behind. I made it to my room in a matter of seconds, to my closet in less than that, and soon I was holding the postcards in my hand. There was nothing written on the back, no postage. I’d never questioned where my mother had gotten them. Or from whom. I looked up at Jameson and Grayson, Xander and Nash. “You Hawthornes,” I whispered hoarsely, “and your invisible ink.

Grayson’s expression became, in a word, murderous. “He touches her when she doesn’t want to be touched. I saw the father do the same thing to Acacia—a hand on her shoulder, inching toward her neck.” There were slabs of granite softer than Grayson’s jaw at that moment. “The son is whiny,” he told them. “The father is dangerous.” “So we take him out.” Nash took off his second-favorite cowboy hat. Jameson smiled. Kent Trowbridge didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into. No one stood a chance against any two of the Hawthorne brothers, let alone all four. “What do we have to work with, Gray?

Wie weten het nog meer?' vroeg Grayson op dat ongeïnteresseerd klinkende troonopvolgerstoontje van hem dat je de indruk gaf dat hij degene die hij de vraag stelde een gunst verleende, aangezien hij het antwoord ook met geweld uit hun gedachten had kunnen trekken.

To Grayson’s credit, he gave up trying to lose me pretty quickly.

My right hand holding the blue-green glass, I dropped the towel with my left and reached for him. "Don't," Grayson breathed. He turned to walk past me. "I told you once before, Avery: I'm broken. I won't break you, too. Go back to bed. Forget about that piece of glass and whatever else was in that bag. Stop playing the old man's games"... That felt final in a way that nothing else between us ever had.

And then," Grayson said, "the old man was gone. And then... there was you." "Grayson." His name caught in my throat. Grayson just looked at me, his light eyes shadowed. "Sometimes, you have an idea of a person--about who they are, about what you'd be like together. But sometimes that's all it is: an idea"... "It was never just the idea of you, Avery.

I know that Jamie loves you." Grayson looked at me the way you look at art in a glass case, like he wanted to reach out to touch me but couldn't. "And I've seen the way that you look at him, the way the two of you are together. You're in love with my brother, Avery." He paused. "Tell me you're not

I wanted Eve to be different," Grayson told me. "I wanted her to be you." "Don't say that," I whispered... "There are so many things that I will never say.

Evie,” Grayson murmured. “We need to be careful.” Evie?

Evie.” Grayson gave her a look, the kind of Grayson Hawthorne look that burned itself into your memory because it said everything he wouldn’t. “It’s not him.

Jameson bringing me closer to Grayson instead of pushing me away. I held the picture out, and Grayson’s fingers brushed mine as he took it.

I’ll play, and I’ll win,” Grayson said, with the force of absolute law, “because we are who we are.

My fingers went to my pin. Eve’s a Hawthorne. That shouldn’t have hurt. It wasn’t news. Eve was Toby’s daughter—but it was already clear to me that Grayson didn’t see her as a cousin. She isn’t related to them by blood. They didn’t grow up together. So when Grayson said that she was one of them, that they owed her protection, all I could think was that he’d once spoken similar words about me.

I had never understood what it felt like for one person to be your everything, to look at that person and know. I’d never believed myself capable of that. I hadn’t wanted to be capable of it. When Thea and I hung up the phone, I went to see Grayson.

The old man raised us. He made us in his own image.” Jameson swung, and the ball went soaring. “Xan has his mind. Grayson got the gravitas. Nash has a savior complex. And I…” Another ball. Another shot. “I don’t know when to give up.

But he’d still used me to lure Toby out—the same way Sheffield Grayson had, the same way Mellie and Eli had. You’re not a player, Nash had told me a small eternity ago. You’re the glass ballerina—or the knife.

She was competitive, she wasn’t afraid of heights, she had a high tolerance for pain, and she definitely recognized the effect she had on Grayson.

It also wouldn’t be the worst time to tell me that you aren’t jealous of Eve standing that close to Grayson.

Because I’m terrible at hurting, Heiress. And if what we have now—if everything we have now—starts to feel like another competition between Grayson and me, like a game? I don’t trust myself not to play.

I watched as the boys opened and read theirs. Nash swore under his breath. Grayson stared at his. Jameson let out a broken little laugh. Xander shoved his into his pocket.

Beauty was expected,” Grayson replied. “Technique without artistry is worthless.” He looked down at the remains of the violin he’d destroyed. “Beauty is a lie.

Jameson has laser focus. Grayson always finishes what he starts. Even Nash, he might take the scenic route, but he's wired to go from point A to point B." Xander finished tinkering and finally turned to face me. "But me? I'm not wired that way. I start at point A, and somewhere along the way, I end up at the intersection of one hundred and twenty-seven and purple." He shrugged. "It's one of my many charms. My brain likes diversions. I follow the paths that I find.

Did you know about this?” Grayson said, his voice low, his silver eyes targeting Nash. “Which ‘this’ might we be talkin’ about, little brother?” “How about buying patents from a grieving widow for one one-hundredth of what they were worth?” Grayson threw down the file, then picked up another one. “Or posing as an angel investor when what he really wanted was to incrementally acquire enough of the company to be able to shut it down to clear the way for another of his investments?

I couldn’t remember how many ultra-expensive violins Tobias Hawthorne had purchased in pursuit of cultivating his grandson’s musical ability, but it looked like Grayson had destroyed at least one.

Grayson is in training for the Insufferable Olympics, and we really think he can go all the way if he can just jam that stick a little farther up his—” Asterisk,

Maybe I am, but it’s not just about Grayson. Eve is Toby’s daughter. I wanted to be. I thought I was. But I’m not, and she is, and now, suddenly, she’s here, and she’s connected to this place, to all of you—and no, I don’t like it, and I feel petty for feeling that way.

The press had been cleared out, but Oren and his men were still there waiting—and so was Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. Grayson saw his brother standing there, and he answered on behalf of both of them. “We will.

I will always protect you - grayson <3

I’m trying to protect you,” Grayson said lowly.

The more Gigi talked, the faster she talked. Grayson was beginning to develop the sense that she should not be given caffeine. At all.

You have a girlfriend,' Gigi said with a roll of her eyes. 'Fine, then. What is this imaginary girlfriend like?' 'Smart,' Grayson said, and there was still a part of him - a fainter part now, like an echo or a memory or a shadow - that had to fight to keep from seeing Avery's face when he said it.