Possessive Puckboy (Puckboys, #8)

by Eden Finley

Ah, the trauma that was my adolescence.

I like being needed. It’s a drug.

Usually after a puke, the hangover goes away, and I’m all good. Not this time. If anything, I feel worse. Okay, becoming a better human can come later today.

That kiss turned everything upside down, but considering my life was already upside down, does that mean it’s now the right way up? Or maybe my life is in the universe’s tumble dryer at the moment.

He’s holding me, and for a moment, that loneliness in my heart settles.

“Thanks, but I’d rather you not have a back injury.”

WAY TO RUB IT INNN (hot girls have to get spine surgery)

I shouldn’t be reading into it because it’s making me doubt my doubts. And doubting my doubts is doubtfully doubty out here. And now the word “doubt” has absolutely no meaning anymore.

I didn’t know this kind of love existed. The kind that has the word forever floating around in my head. The type of love where he not only makes me a better person but is supportive in whatever I want to do. Where that feeling is reciprocated and not just taken. We’re in this thing called life together, and I never want that to change.