Puck Boy

Copyright © 2023 by Hannah GrayAll rights reserved. Visit my website at authorhannahgray.comCover Designer: Amy Queau, Q DesignsEditor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. contents playlist prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 Other Books by Hannah Gray acknowledgments about the author playlist Listen to the music that inspired Puck Boy on Spotify. “Handle on You” by Parker McCollum “Never Leave” by Bailey Zimmerman “Times Like These” by Five Finger Death Punch “Praying” by Kesha “Going, Going, Gone” by Luke Combs “Heartless” by Diplo, featuring Morgan Wallen “HandClap” by Fitz and the Tantrums “Thought You Should Know” by Morgan Wallen “Nonsense” by Sabrina Carpenter “One Thing at a Time” by Morgan Wallen prologue Addison I looked in the mirror at my tear-streaked face. No matter how many times I wiped my eyes, the tears just kept coming. Like a river after a rainstorm, rushing furiously with no sign of slowing. In just a few minutes, I was going to break my parents’ hearts. My heart ached, just like it had ever since I had peed on that stick. Since I had seen those two faint, life-changing lines. As a kid in high school, those lines were not my friends. Those lines … well, they were going to change the course of my life—forever. And those same godforsaken, eye-opening damn lines were about to rip my parents’ hearts into pieces. Since I’d been old enough to understand how reproduction worked, they had drilled safe sex into my head. At least, I’d thought they had. But life had gotten busy between school and work. And who actually knew missing those few pills would lead to this? I couldn’t stop all the questions in my head from brewing. Will I ever reach my goals? What dreams am I allowed to have now? How the hell am I supposed to raise a kid when I am a kid? And then there was that perfect picture I’d had in my head for so many years. One that involved me as a wife, madly in love with my husband when we brought children into this world. I’d probably drive a minivan, but it 1 Cam “What’d you say your name was, sweetheart?” I mumble, peeling the black shirt over her head, not missing how her arms wrap around her body in an attempt to cover herself. Golden-blonde curls fall down her back, making me eager to give them a tug. This chick is gorgeous, and her body is rocking. “Not that it matters,” she says, breathing the words out before returning her lips to mine, “but it’s Addison.” “Addison—that’s pretty,” I say, thinking out loud. “I know a town named Addison. Are you named after a town?” “No.” She attempts to pull my mouth to hers again before she unbuttons her jeans. “This town is about an hour from where I grew up in Alabama. Small town. Two stores. One restaurant. But it has the best fried chicken—” “Less talking. More … you know,” she growls. “More what, Addison? More fucking?” I pull away, looking down at her. “That what you mean by you know, sweetheart?” “Yes,” she says boldly. “My friend just told me you’re the campus playboy. Playboys aren’t supposed to be Chatty Cathys.” I frown at her choice of words. Nobody has ever complained if I try to talk to them before fucking their brain out. This is weird. And sort of hot. “What does that have to do with anything?” I ask. “Playboys don’t talk?” “You aren’t supposed to want to talk this much!” She sounds frustrated. “Or ask me questions! That’s why