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Adam was never given gifts growing up. His family didn’t really celebrate Christmas. Most years the night ended with Robert Parrish passed out on the couch with the radio softly humming the static of a distant carol. Adam would crawl into his bed, like any other night and squeeze his eyes shut as tight as he could, pretending to be somewhere else. He knew that his classmates would wake up to presents, and hugs, and candy the next morning. He knew that he would wake up to living room strewn with beer cans and the sluggish anger of his hungover father. He never celebrated his birthday either. It just served as a marker that he had survived another year. And that soon enough he would be out of Henrietta, out of his father's reach, into the world. A free man.
The older he got, the less he cared about missing out on such things. He had much more important things to focus on. Like getting into Aglionby and being top of all his classes so he could get into an Ivy League college on a scholarship. Wiping every last bit of trailer park dust from his body. Getting out of Henrietta and never looking back. Never sparing it a second thought. He knew he had it rougher than all of those Raven boys he saw around town in their fancy cars and expensive clothes. He knew he had it rougher than most of his classmates that never needed to ask about his bruises and periodic absences. He also knew the only way to get out, was fight his way out. Nothing was going to be handed to him. He accepted that. Although he’d always envied those around him that were allotted those kinds of luxuries while he had to work in the factory until his bones ached just to keep food in his stomach, he never had to deal with that envy up close; until he met Gansey.
Gansey was an impossible being. Presidential, kingly and golden in everything he did. He was everything Adam wanted to be. But more importantly, behind his politician's smile and firm handshake, he was kind and genuine in a way that was almost startling. Adam was incredibly grateful for his companionship. It made his long days at Aglionby feel less heavy than they had in the months prior. Adam cared for his friend dearly, but Gansey had a knack for striking his nerves. Not intentionally, and Adam knew that, but his obliviousness to his condescension made it even more infuriating. It caused quite a bit of friction between them. The thing that the two boys fought about more than anything, was money. Gansey knew about Adam’s situation and was constantly trying to help him out, without realizing how insulting and grating his gestures were. After a while Gansey stopped insisting so much, eventually learning where it would lead them, but still, he had a knack for putting his foot in his mouth and sparking Adam up into a frustrated outburst.
Through Gansey, Adam also became acquainted with his razor sharp best friend, Ronan Lynch. Ronan and Gansey contrasted so deeply on so many levels, that to an outsider it seemed ridiculous that they could ever be friends. But to Adam, who got to know them both up close, it made perfect sense. In a strange, backwards, misshapen way, all three of them made sense. They fell into a natural dynamic of easy banter, a testing of patience and deep admiration.
Ronan, although his trust fund was just as generous as Gansey's, he was less concerned with it. Less concerned with pretty much everything. He never tried to pay for Adam’s things or offer him any of his own. He was irritating for entirely different reasons. He didn't care for appearances or impressions, while Adam ran them over and over in his head. He hated school, even though it should’ve been an honour to be enrolled at a school as elite and prestigious as Aglionby. It frustrated Adam that Ronan was casual and dismissive of all the things that were handed to him on a silver platter, while Adam had to fight tooth and nail for them. Over the course of Adam's friendship with Gansey, Ronan eased up on his cruel remarks and hostility once he realized that Adam was there for good. Although they bickered constantly and couldn't be more different, they found themselves somewhere that could be loosely defined as friendship.
As they traipsed around the Henrietta countryside in search of Gansey’s beloved Glendower, and things became deeper and more magical than Adam’s logical brain would have ever considered, something shifted. He couldn't place when or where or why it happened, but it did. As if the gravity between him and Ronan tilted, just ever so slightly that they would find themselves pressed closer than strictly necessary in the back seat of the Pig or in their booth at Nino’s. They would casually bump shoulders and brush hands as they walked. Adam almost didn’t notice the change, it was so subtle. It almost felt as if they’d been dancing around those touches since they met, and it was inevitable that they would eventually meet in the middle.
To their friends, the change in the atmosphere seemed to go unnoticed, but to Adam it occupied a frustratingly large portion of his focus. He had better things to do than wonder about the impossible and beautiful inner workings of Ronan’s mind. Most days he would just shake those thoughts out of his head, they were silly and pointless. Unlikely and dangerous. But there were a few moments that stuck out in his mind that his dismissive reflex snagged on.
i) mixtape
Adam trudged to his car after a late shift at Boyd’s. His mind was flipping through all the schoolwork he had to do before he could go to sleep. His bones ached for rest and there was a dull throbbing behind his eyes, but this was the Adam Parrish state of being. He’d been running on empty for months, he could do another night. He would rest once he was out, once he was free. Free. Free. Free. He chanted it in his head, like the lyrics of an old song that had lost its tune. Some days, the dream was the only thing that kept him from collapsing on the ground and never getting up again. Some days, his everyday battles seemed fruitless and futile. Some days, the future that he so desperately chased seemed too far for him to reach. But it was all he had. So he kept going. Pushed through the pain in his joints and the grogginess in his head and he kept living. Because sometimes that felt like the only thing left to do.
His car door groaned loudly as he swung in open and sunk into the driver's seat. He let his head rest against the steering wheel and closed his eyes. Just for a moment, he let himself feel it. All the hopelessness, the frustration, the exhaustion. He let the tears push against his eyelids, but didn’t let them fall. Instead his took a deep breath, counted to ten, and refocused. He stuck the keys into the ignition and listened as the car spluttered to life. It was always a bit of a miracle, hearing the car live to fight another day, against all odds. It felt a little too much like a reflection sometimes, but perhaps that was why he loved it so much. They were both a miracle of moving parts.
As he reversed out of the parking lot and onto the dimly lit road, he barely registered the shuffling and clicking of a cassette. It wasn’t until soft major chords strummed through his crackling speakers that he realized there was any music playing at all. He wasn’t well versed in music. He never really listened to it. Never had the time or means. But he knew enough to pick out a fiddle and a flute somewhere in the swell of chords. And then a deep but soft voice came through in a language that Adam immediately knew was Gaelic. Although he didn’t understand the words being sung, he could feel the sentiment reverberating in his rib cage. It made him feel homesick, but not for the trailer or St. Agnes or even Monmouth. But for a place he had yet to find. A place where he could rest and feel safe and warm. The chorus felt like a promise of someday. Someday all the pain would be worth it. Someday he would be free. Someday he would be home.
SomedaySomedaySomedaySomedaySomeday.
As he drove back to St.Agnes the cassette continued to click through tracks and crackle through his speakers, they were all soft Irish lullabies. They left him feeling full and warm and okay. He was okay. He could make it. He’d been resigned to his fate to struggle through school ever since he applied for Aglionby, but for the first time in months, he didn't feel weighed down by that fact. He almost felt empowered by it. He was working for something bigger than just getting out. He was working to build himself a future and more importantly a home. A home made for staying, for living.
He pulled into the St. Agnes parking lot. There weren’t very many streetlights around, so most of the building was cast in shadow. When he’d first moved in, seeing it at night had creeped him out a bit. All peaks and arches. Empty and haunting. But now it was just a church. A building of wood and stone. One that he lived above. One that Ronan attended with his brothers every Sunday. He shifted into park and pulled his keys out of the ignition. He sat for a moment and gazed out of the car. The stars were mostly hidden in clouds, but a few of the brightest shone through faintly. He took another deep breath and pushed the door open. He paused for a moment before reaching back into the car and pulling the cassette out.
Parrish’s Hondoyota Mixtape: A Shitbox Sing-Along, was scrawled across the front in Ronan’s heavy handed blockish writing. Adam smiled faintly to himself and stuck it back into the cassette player.
ii) manibus
As the winter drew in closer and the air grew dry and cold, Adam’s hands started getting chapped. It had happened every year for as long as he could remember. When he was younger he used to lick them to try and make them feel better, it gave them a temporary relief, but of course in the long run, it only made it worse. They were especially bad this year, with him working at Boyd’s for long hours at a time, and running around the countryside repairing the ley line and carrying on with Gansey's quest. At work, Boyd kept the bay door open all day, which Adam understood was the logical thing to, but the biting cold had him wishing that he could close it just for a few minutes, to thaw out his rigid fingers. Between the frosty wind and the hours of tinkering, his hands became so dry, they started to crack and bleed at the knuckles.
At school, he would run them under warm water in the bathroom sink in between classes. It felt nice. He couldn’t allow himself to do that at his apartment, knowing his budget wouldn’t allow him to splurge on something so silly.
One day after school, he was squeezed in between Ronan and Blue in a booth at Nino's. Gansey was talking adamantly about an article he’d found in the library that had something to do with American energy sources. Adam wasn’t really paying that much attention to the details. He knew that it wasn't that important to their quest, most of the things that Gansey was talking about they already knew. But there was a charm to his persistent excitement. His eyes were sparked and his hand gestures were passionate in their flailing. Adam sat quietly and sipped at his glass of Coke, nodded along with his ramblings politely. Next to him Blue was doodling on her napkin, not even pretending to be interested. Noah had been in the car with them but had since vanished. Like always, Adam couldn’t place exactly when Noah had stopped being with them, he couldn’t even remember if this was the first time he was noticing his absence.
Blue interrupted Gansey mid sentence with some snarky comment, but between the general ruckus of the restaurant and her being sat on his deaf side, he didn't catch it. He did however catch the flustered expression it left on Gansey’s face and felt the huff of laughter from Ronan on his other side.
“Well, I suppose we could pick this up tomorrow then. Seeing as Adam is the only one who is as enchanted by this discovery as I am.” Gansey said as he folded up the article and shoved into his backpack, where it was sure to get lost among his numerous other news clippings, sketches, notes and books he kept in there.
“Oh, please." Blue said with an impressive eyeroll. "Adam’s not enchanted either. He’s just too polite to tell you that this is boring and redundant.”
Gansey looked genuinely offended by that. He turned to Adam expectantly, as if waiting for him to refute this statement
.
“Not every day can hold earth shattering revelations.” He replied with a shrug. “Some days are just meant to be filled with pizza and homework.” His answer seemed to satisfy both Gansey and Blue.
Adam picked up his pencil that he’d abandoned about twenty minutes ago and turned his focus back to his calculus worksheet. He could hear the continuation of conversation around him. Jumping from one topic to another in manner that was familiar when Gansey was leading. He was almost finished when he felt fingertips lightly ghost over his knuckles, where they had split during his shift at the factory after school. He didn’t look up, but knew that Ronan was examining them.
“Getting into fist fights again, Parrish?” He asked. His words were teasing, but Adam could hear the genuine concern underlying them.
“Yeah, you know me. I love violence.” The words came out more bitter than he’d intended and he felt Ronan shift next to him, drawing his hand back. Adam nudged his shoulder against Ronan’s lightly, letting him know he wasn’t upset. Ronan nudged him back a little harder, but they were both grinning.
When Adam got into his car the next day, he found a small tin sitting on the driver's seat. Manibus, for your hands was written across the top in Ronan’s familiar scrawl. He unscrewed the lid and found a pale cream inside. He knew immediately that it had come from Ronan’s dreams. He rubbed it gently into the cracking skin on the backs of his hands and felt the relief almost instantly. The paste itself was cool, and it left a pleasant tingling sensation spreading through his hands.
A warmth spread from his chest, the same warmth he felt whenever he listened to Ronan’s tape. The warmth was a feeling he had yet to categorize. It felt new, but at the same time it felt like it had always existed inside of him, but he was never given any reason to really feel it. It wasn’t pride, or flattery, or even happiness. It was perhaps a mix of all three. But Adam was fairly certain it was something entirely different. Something a bit too big for him to be able to decipher just yet. So he didn't try to. Adam Parrish, a man of precision and calculation, just let the feeling fill him up without trying to analyze it or reason with it. He just felt it. And it felt nice.
iii) blanket
He couldn’t remember how exactly it had started, but he wasn’t opposed to it, so he let it keep happening. Like most things when it came to Ronan, Adam didn’t try too hard to understand it, he just let himself feel it. And in all honesty it felt nice to fall asleep to the sound of another person breathing. It felt nice to know that there was someone else that was just as sleep deprived as he was. Ronan was loud and consuming in everything he did. He carved out a place for himself wherever he went, and Adam’s apartment was no different. Either flung across his mattress or curled up on the floor just beside it, Ronan belonged. It was something that Adam had always envied, his ability to always look like he fit in without even having to try, while Adam took every measure possible to blend in and still stuck out like a sore thumb. He didn't try to dispute the fact that, although he would never admit it out loud, he was fond of Ronan's company.
Through Ronan’s late nights out racing in the streets and looking for trouble, and Adams nights spent pouring over his textbooks after late shifts, they subconsciously sought each other's company. On nights like these Ronan wasn’t nearly as annoying as Adam thought he would be. Occasionally he would offer to help Adam study, mostly Latin, but more often than not he would just throw himself across Adam’s bed and blast his shitty music so loud in his earbuds that Adam could hear it from across the room at his desk. He would offer some snarky commentary every once in awhile, or some funny anecdote at Gansey’s expense. But mostly he just filled space. Made the apartment feel less like a splintery box and more like a place to live. And although he’d never admit to it, Adam slept better when Ronan was there, and he knew that Ronan did too.
It was a Wednesday night and Adam had finished up his shift at Boyd’s at eight and had been writing an essay since then. The cramped apartment had begun to feel too muggy and was beginning to lull him to sleep, so he yanked the window open. He knew he would regret it later when he woke up freezing and covered in bugs, seeing as the window didn’t have a screen. But he couldn't let himself rest until he at least finished the first draft. The essay was for his World History class and wasn’t technically due until Monday, but between the search for Glendower, his three jobs, and his other classes he didn’t know when else he would have the time. So he pushed through, just like he always did.
An hour passed in a blur of highlighting passages from his textbook and jotting down names and dates. His train of thought was abruptly cut off by the sound of squealing tires and the rumble of an engine pull into the St. Agnes parking lot. He knew that if he looked out the window he would see Ronan’s sleek charcoal BMW idling just below his window. He didn't look, instead he turned his attention back to his essay. After a few moments, he heard the engine cut out and the distinct Ronan-like slam of the car door. It was another few moments before he heard footstep start to make their way up to his door. He turned in his chair to face the door, waiting for the familiar rap of knuckles against wood. In its place he heard a dull thump from the other side. He could almost feel the outline of Ronan’s figures sitting on the last step, his shaved head resting against the door. He turned back to his essay. This happened sometimes too. Where Ronan would come to his door but not asked to be let in. Sometimes he would only sit there for a few moments before leaving, but other times he would linger for an hour or so. It confused Adam at first, but now he just accepted that sometimes Ronan didn’t really want to see him, he just wanted to know that he could.
Adam finished the first draft of his essay and put it away before taking out his Physics textbook. He skimmed through the next unit like he always did. So he could stay one step ahead. When his eyelashes started to feel like they weighed ten pounds and he couldn’t stifle his yawns anymore, he closed his book and pushed away from his desk. He glanced out the window and saw that Ronan’s BMW was still parked there, which meant that Ronan was still sitting outside his door.
Adam pulled his pyjamas on and brushed his teeth before walking over to his door. He stood for a moment, hand hovering over the handle. Usually Ronan would be gone by now, Adam wondered if perhaps he’d fallen asleep. It was unlikely. He wondered what Ronan thought about while he sat outside his door. Adam knew that Ronan always had a lot on his mind, there was so much for him to be thinking about, especially now. But a small selfish part of him hoped that at least some of that time was spent thinking about him. He knew how Ronan felt about him, he’d figured it out awhile ago. At first he’d thought that he was just flattering himself and that it was all in his head. But the closer he looked, the more obvious it became. He also knew that Ronan would never act on those feelings. He was too sure that they wouldn't be reciprocated. For a long time, Adam didn't really know what to make of this revelation, he knew that Ronan’s feeling were pure in away he didn’t think he could give him in return. He knew that this thing between them wasn’t something to be toyed with, he knew it was serious. Ronan didn't do anything halfway, and if Adam really wanted something with him, it would have to be all in. He was taking his time figuring out whether that was something he wanted, whether that was something he was capable of. He stood there a moment contemplating, knowing that Ronan, in all his sharp beauty, was sitting on the other side. He turned the handle slowly, hoping Ronan would hear the click and whirl of the door and know well enough to move away.
He could hear the creaking of wood and as he gently swung the door open he saw Ronan’s long lanky figure climb to his feet. They stood like that for a moment, just looking at each other. Adam took in Ronan’s state, the dark purple rings underneath his eyes, the inward curve of his spine, and the small backpack slung over one shoulder. He was dressed in his usual attire of all black, his five leather bands wrapped around his wrist.
“Hey.” Adam said softly.
“Hey.” Ronan said, his bright blue eyes seering and searching.
“Are you gonna sit out here all night or do out wanna come in?”
Instead of answering, Ronan shuffled forward and pushed passed him and into the apartment. Adam closed the door and turned to see him already laying on the floor propped up on his elbows next to his mattress. His gaze was unwavering in its intensity. His eyes seemed to be asking a question, but in a language Adam wasn’t well versed enough in to decipher. He edged into the room pausing halfway between the door and his bed, they still hadn’t broken eye contact. Adam didn’t want to. He wanted Ronan to keep looking at him like that, and he wanted to keep looking back. He made his way to the mattress and sat down with his knee touching Ronan's shoulder. He didn't know what to say, didn’t know if he should say anything at all. He became suddenly aware of their proximity. He noted the way that Ronan's head was tilted up to keep their eyes locked together. After what could’ve been either years or mere minutes Ronan flicked his eyes to the ground, a rosy blush blooming along his cheeks. Adam could feel his own face heating up too. He didn’t know why he felt embarrassed or shy, there was no reason to. This was just Ronan. They had done this many times before, but for some reason tonight felt more charged than all those that had come before. Charged, with what, Adam couldn’t say.
Ronan sat up and pulled his bag into his lap, pulling out a small patchwork quilt, just big enough to cover one person. Upon first glance, Adam knew that Ronan had dreamt it. Likely to replicate one that had existed at the Barns at one point or another. He balled it up messily and tucked it under his head as he layed down and closed his eyes. Adam allowed himself a moment to just watch him. Examine the dark arches of his eyebrows, the sharp edges of his cheekbones, the crooked slant of his nose, knowing it had been broken more than once to end up that way. He tried to memorize the way the dim yellow light of the lamp on the floor beside them, softened his features and how his long curling eyelashes cast shadows across his cheeks.
Then the moment was over and he reached over and flipped the lamp off and layed down on his side.
He was still facing Ronan, inches between them. He knew Ronan wasn’t asleep, he could tell by the way his shoulders were tensed slightly and the occasional flutter of his eyelashes. He was laying on his back with his hands folded across his chest. Without thinking, Adam reached out and brushed his fingers along the soft skin between his leather bands. He felt Ronan shift slightly before relaxing and turning his hand every so slightly, allowing Adam better access. Having been granted permission, Adam slipped his fingers underneath the leather and felt along the jagged scars beneath. Ronan never talked about what happened, and Adam tried his best to understand it without ever asking. He could understand that some things just didn’t need to be spoken about or relived.
Adam pressed his palm to Ronan's chest where he could feel his erratic heartbeat, before slipping his hand into Ronan's bigger, rougher one. After a moment of hesitation, he felt Ronan's fingers fold around his. He squeezed once, hoping Ronan got the message. That Adam understood, at least on some level, his pain and wouldn't judge him for feeling it. With Ronan’s hand spreading warmth all the way down to Adam's toes, it wasn’t long before he dozed off.
When he awoke, one arm still hanging off the edge of the mattress, Ronan was gone. As he shifted onto his back, already starting to feel this stiffness in his shoulder from spending the whole night pressed into it, he noticed he was very warm. Warmer than he should’ve been. Considering the cold of winter creeping in and the fact that he didn’t have heat in his apartment and he’d forgotten to close the window before he went to sleep last night. He sat up and saw that the quilt that Ronan had brought over last night had been draped over him. He glanced at his clock and saw that he still had an hour before he needed to get up to go to school. He smiled and pulled the quilt tighter around him. Relishing in its warmth and noticing that it smelled very distinctly of Ronan, like leather, grass, wood and something that reminded him of Cabeswater. He told himself that he would bring the blanket back to Ronan, that he couldn’t accept anything more from him, but in the back of his mind he knew that the blanket would stay.
iv) toy car
Adam was sitting cross legged on the porch swing at the Barns. The sun had just begun to set, painting the sky in light hues of orange and pink. He gazed out at the rolling fields and the enchanting mist that clung to the distant peaks. It never stopped feeling like a fairytale. The more time he spent at the Barns the easier it was for him to understand why Ronan clung to it so dearly. Here, everything was immersed in a private sort of magic. The breeze that swept through the towering hundred year old trees felt like a whispered secret. The sun’s shining rays felt like a warm embrace. The very air tasted sweeter. Everytime he stayed at the Barns he could feel a sense of belonging humming through him, unwinding him. It was a place of peace and tranquility in a world that never seemed to shut up. He loved it.
The door creaked open and Adam turned to see Ronan leaning against the door frame, his hands were behind his back. Adam smiled softly at the sight of him. At the rightness of it all. The strange rightness of him sitting on the porch of Ronan's childhood home with Ronan standing there already in his pyjamas, giving him that look that left Adam’s chest feeling full. He knew this was a place that he could finally breathe. Where he could simply be.
After Gansey died and came back, and Cabeswater died and didn’t come back, and Noah died for good, he had expected to feel hollow with sadness. And for the first little while, he had. But he never felt the sadness in the smothering way he was used to, the way he expected. Because Ronan was there, their shoulders pressed together in the reading room at Foxway, his head resting over the steady beat of Ronan's heart as the late night melted into the early morning. Ronan never allowed him to fall too far into his own head, pulling him back by squeezing his hand, or running his fingers through his hair, or telling one of his terrible jokes. By just being Ronan, and being there. It didn’t make the rippling ache in his chest any less painful, but it did give him faith that he would be able to move past it and that there was more things to feel than just pain. Far better things.
Ronan came and stood in front him, his hands still tucked behind his back. He seemed almost nervous, which Adam found both suspicious and endearing.
“Ronan.” He didn’t mean for it to come out a whisper, but he didn't want to disturb the peaceful dome that always seemed to settle over the Barns. Ronan smiled softly, shifting his feet slightly. Adam could tell he was searching for words. He sat and waited patiently, knowing that Ronan would speak when he was ready.
“I was cleaning my room earlier, “ He said looking out at the fields instead of at Adam.
“Ronan Lynch, cleaning?” Adam said, feigning shock. “Sounds like a lie to me.”
“I don’t lie.” Ronan cut in smoothly, ever insistent on his strange code of honour. Adam smiled brightly and said nothing, encouraging Ronan to keep speaking. “As I was saying, before someone so rudely interrupted," He shot a glare at Adam, but there was no malice in his eyes. "I was cleaning and I, uh... I found this.” He brought his hands out from behind his back and pushed them under Adam's nose. Cupped gently in his palms was a small yellow toy car. Adam recognized it immediately, it was the one he had plucked from a shelf in Ronan’s room on the night of his eighteenth birthday. It was the toy car he had been fiddling with just before Ronan had come in and kissed him for the first time.
Adam glanced up at him, Ronan was studying his face almost shyly. Adam reached out and carefully plucked the car from his hands and brought it down into his lap. He spun the back wheel and listened to the soft and whimsical tune it played in response. He reached out with his other hand and laced his fingers with Ronan's, pulling him over to sit next to him on the porch swing.
Ronan obliged, lounging beside him, looking completely at ease, but Adam recognized the anxious glint in his eyes. Adam turned to look at him, their faces a breath apart. He let himself fall into the oceans behind Ronan's bright blue eyes, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. When they pulled apart, he let their foreheads rest against one another, their breath mingling, the car's tune slowing down and fading out. He opened his eyes to find Ronan already staring heavily at him.
His gaze was enough to unravel him, pulling at all his loose threads and leaving him completely bare. Something swelled inside of him, something big but not heavy. He noticed a small shift behind Ronan’s eyes and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing passed his lips but empty air. He took a deep breath, one of his hands resting on the small of Adam’s back and the other stroking lazy circles over his cheek.
“I love you.” He whispered, not like a secret, but like a prayer. Like a promise.
Adam wasn’t expecting that. Those three little words, like arrows, anchored into his core. He realized abruptly that no one had ever said those words to him before. He thought he should feel rattled by them, but he wasn’t. Instead he felt completely still inside. With three simple words Ronan had calmed every whirring and dizzying part of him, leaving him feeling completely balanced for the first time. A piece clicked into place in the hole in his chest. That something that he’d been feeling expanded and shifted into something different. Into something he could decipher. Or maybe it didn’t change at all but Adam finally understood it.
“I love you too.” Adam said, his voice was thick with the threat of tears. And suddenly he was crying. Not because he was sad, or even because he was happy. He was relieved. Relieved that when he heard those words, he could believe them and feel like he was worthy of them. Relieved that he could say them back without feeling like he was lying or pretending to be something he wasn't. Relieved that he meant it.
For so long Adam Parrish thought that love wasn’t real. It was a lie. An old wives tale. As he got older he realized that, although it may exist, it wasn't meant for people like him. But sitting on the porch swing with Ronan pressed into him, in all his impossible beauty, with his expression wide open and raw, Adam Parrish not only believed in love, but he felt it.