The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine Chapter 189: Allergy

Jason’s POV

After the amazing night and the awkward morning, I had gone straight to the office, leaving Ella still in bed. She deserved the rest.

It was her first ti, after all.

I still couldn’t believe I was her first.

Sothing about that knowledge sent a weird sense of pride through . She was mine first. The thought sat deep in my chest, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Before I left, I had made her breakfast—because I’m thoughtful like that.

And okay, maybe because I was feeling ridiculously soft for her. Not that I’d ever say it out loud.

I left a note, too. Nothing too cheesy, just a simple:

"Eat, or I’ll be back to force-feed you."

Things weren’t going to be like before, that was for sure.

I was dizzy with it. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about last night, about how nothing felt the sa anymore.

But I had work to do. And revenge to plan.

So I forced myself to focus.

The Jake Situation

The plan was simple. Ruthless. Flawless.

Jake had crossed the one line he should have never even thought of crossing.

He drugged my wife. My. Wife.

And I was going to destroy him.

He wouldn’t even see it coming.

I had barely gotten the pieces moving—barely sent out the calls, barely started laying the trap—when my phone rang.

Ella.

My heart dropped.

I picked up instantly. "What’s wrong?"

She sounded panicked. Really panicked.

"Jason, co ho. Now."

I didn’t ask questions.

I just grabbed my keys and ran.

By the ti I got ho, I was expecting the worst.

I thought maybe Jake had done sothing again. Maybe she was in danger. Maybe sothing had happened to her.

Instead, I walked in to find Ella pacing back and forth in the living room, looking one second away from a full breakdown.

"Did you use protection?"

That was the first thing out of her mouth.

I froze.

All the blood drained from my face.

Shit.

She must have seen the realization hit , because her eyes widened with absolute fury.

"You’ve got to be kidding ," she whispered, her voice shaking.

I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"Okay, okay, before you freak out—"

"Before I freak out?" she snapped, reaching for the nearest object—an empty cup.

I barely dodged it before it shattered against the wall.

Jesus Christ.

She was really about to murder in my own house.

"Look, I was kind of... distracted?" I admitted, trying to keep my tone light. Maybe humor would save .

It did not.

Ella’s eye twitched. "You were distracted."

I cleared my throat. "Uh, yeah?"

She grabbed a slipper.

A slipper.

My life flashed before my eyes.

"You are so—!"

"Hot? Amazing? The best you’ve ever had?" I tried, flashing her my best grin.

Wrong move.

"Irresponsible!" she screeched, launching the slipper at .

I ducked. Again.

"Ella, relax! We’ll handle it!" I tried, holding my hands up in surrender.

She let out a humorless laugh. "There is no ’we’ in this situation, Jason! If I’m pregnant—"

"You won’t be."

I said it so confidently that she froze.

Then her eyes narrowed. "And how do you know that?"

I stepped closer, my voice dropping.

"Because I’ll make damn sure you’re not."

Sothing dark passed between us.

She shivered.

I smirked.

And just like that, the energy in the room shifted.

I cleared my throat and held up a bag. "Look, I bought you chocolates and your favorite biscuits."

She stared at it. Then back at .

I could see her inner struggle.

Revenge? Or chocolate?

Chocolate won.

She snatched the bag, already tearing into the biscuits.

I let out a breath of relief and grabbed my keys.

"Lem go real quick to the pharmacy, I’ll be back."

She didn’t even look up. "Mmhmm."

Crisis averted.

When I got back, I tossed the P2 onto the coffee table.

She looked at it.

Then at .

Then back at it.

"How sure are we that this is gonna work?" she asked suspiciously.

I scratched the back of my neck, choosing my words carefully.

"Since it’s later in the day... the possibility of it working is around 70 to 80 percent."

Silence.

Then—

"Seventy. To. Eighty. Percent."

I winced. "Yeah?"

She narrowed her eyes.

I braced myself for another slipper to the face.

But instead, she just tore open the box, popped the pill, and downed it with water in one go.

Then she popped another chocolate into her mouth, chewing aggressively.

I sat down beside her, watching her closely.

"Are you always this irresponsible?" she asked, licking chocolate off her thumb.

I nearly groaned.

"You’re my first doing it without protection," I admitted.

The air shifted.

Her lips parted slightly, like she hadn’t expected that answer.

Her breathing hitched.

I smirked.

"Remind again... why were we talking about this?" she muttered.

I leaned in, letting my fingers graze her thigh.

"No idea, sweetheart."

********

Just as I was about to leave for work, sothing caught my eye.

Ella.

Her face was turning red.

Not the usual cute, flustered kind of red. No. This was different. Alarming.

And then she started itching like crazy.

Shit.

I was at her side in seconds. "Ella? What’s wrong?"

She was scratching at her arms, her neck—anywhere she could reach. Her breathing was getting uneven, her eyes wide with panic.

I grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away from her skin before she scratched herself raw. "What did you eat?"

"Toast... bacon..." she said breathlessly, shifting uncomfortably.

That didn’t make sense.

I knew for a fact she wasn’t allergic to either of those.

Which ant...

My eyes flicked to the empty pill packet on the coffee table.

The damn P2.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. She was either allergic to it or having a bad reaction.

No ti to figure it out now.

I scooped her up, carrying her in my arms as I stord toward the door. "We’re going to the hospital."

She weakly tried to protest. "Jason, I—"

"Not a word, Ella. Just hold on."

I practically ran to the car, my heart pounding.

I wasn’t taking chances. Not with her.