The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine Chapter 205: I Was The Craving

Jason’s POV

As we lay there—our bodies tangled, her head on my chest, our breathing finally slowing—I knew I couldn’t keep it in any longer. Not if I ever wanted a real chance with her.

This mont... it felt sacred. Honest.

And I was about to ruin it.

But she deserved the truth.

I shifted slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear like I hadn’t done that a hundred tis in my dreams.

"I need to tell you sothing," I murmured, my voice barely above the silence between us. "And I know the timing sucks... but I don’t want to lie to you. Not anymore."

She tensed, just slightly, but didn’t pull away. That gave hope. Just enough.

"The bet," I began. "It was real. We were assholes, immature idiots, thinking it would be funny or whatever. And it was . I was the one who started it."

Her breath hitched, but she stayed quiet.

"I’m not going to tell you what it was about," I said quickly. "Not because I don’t think you deserve to know—but because it was cruel. And if I say it out loud, I’m scared this—us—will fall apart again. I can’t risk that. Not after how far we’ve co."

"I was stupid. I didn’t know you. Not really. I saw a challenge, a ga, a girl too fierce for her own good—and I wanted to win. But then... I got to know you. The fire, the sharp tongue, the way you roll your eyes when you’re pretending not to care..."

I smiled a little, even though my chest ached.

"And I fell. Hard. For all of it. For you."

I turned, cupping her face gently, making her look at .

"I love you. I’ve never stopped. Not even when you went full crazy-witch mode on during those first few months of marriage." I grinned. "God, you were terrifying. But beautiful. Real."

She let out a watery laugh, biting her lip.

"And I swear," I said, voice breaking slightly, "if you give the chance—I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. You’re it for . My first and last."

I hesitated, then added quietly, "And... just so you know... all the guys had a thing for you back then. Every single one of them. But they backed off. Said they’d never seen look at soone like that before. Said they didn’t want to get in the way of sothing real."

I paused, heart pounding. "And they were right."

The silence that followed was heavy—but not with anger.

It was hopeful.

I looked at her—really looked—and saw every version of her layered into one. The firecracker from campus who never let get away with anything. The girl who bit my lip when I stole kisses she pretended not to want. The sa girl who kicked right in the knuckles once for calling her "cute" in public.

And now... the woman lying beside , her eyes a little glassy, her chest rising and falling with sothing I couldn’t quite read.

So I moved slow.

Tentative.

I leaned down, heart thudding like I was back in freshman year again, trying to steal one of those forbidden kisses in front of her dorm. Except now, I wasn’t stealing anything. I was asking. Hoping.

Praying she wouldn’t bite like before.

Though, honestly? I’d take it. I’d take the bite, the kick, the fury—if it ant I still had her.

My lips brushed hers, feather-light at first. Testing. Waiting.

And when she didn’t pull away—or bite—I deepened it just a little, like a man starved, like every apology I couldn’t fit into words was being poured into that kiss.

Because I didn’t want to lie anymore.

I didn’t want to lose her again.

We ended up going for a second round—this ti slower, deeper. Like we were learning each other all over again. And that’s when I really noticed it—how responsive she was, how she clung to , gasping like she couldn’t get enough.

Yeah... the rumors were true.

Pregnancy hormones? Real.

And apparently, they hit hard.

She was needy, insatiable in the softest, sweetest way, and damn, I wasn’t complaining. I’d read sowhere that pregnancy could increase a woman’s libido, but I thought it was just a myth. Not anymore. I was a believer now.

I grinned into her skin, holding her close as we caught our breath.

I was so gonna love this kid.

Not just because it brought her back to like this, not just because it gave us a second chance—but because sohow, this tiny human already knew how to bring out the best in both of us.

I was so loving this side of pregnancy. Who knew it would turn my wife into this insatiable little vixen who couldn’t get enough of ?

Gods, she kept awake all night.

And trust —it wasn’t because she wanted to run to KFC for chicken. Nope. This ti, I was the craving.

Not that I was complaining... just saying, a man’s got limits. And she? Apparently didn’t care.

*********

I didn’t sleep. Not a wink.

And it wasn’t because I was up watching Netflix or doing sothing noble like reading parenting books. Nope.

It was because my beautiful, heavily pregnant, hormone-driven wife decided last night—at exactly 11:47 PM—that I was her personal craving. And I don’t an emotionally. I an physically. Repeatedly. Passionately. And very, very enthusiastically.

I’m not complaining. Let just get that out there. I would never complain about being wanted like that by the woman I love. But I’m also not going to pretend my legs don’t feel like jelly, or that my back isn’t plotting to file for a divorce on its own.

I groaned and flopped over in bed, staring at the ceiling like it owed answers. She was already awake, glowing like she’d just spent the night at a spa, not turning into a human pretzel.

And there she was, sitting on the edge of the bed in my t-shirt, her belly soft and full in her lap, sipping orange juice with a damn smile on her face. Peaceful. Serene. Gorgeous.

The glow was real. And unfair.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she chirped like she wasn’t the reason I felt like I’d run a marathon... in a thunderstorm... wearing a backpack full of bricks.

I cracked one eye open. "You’re chipper for soone who committed war cris on last night."

She blinked innocently. "Oh? I thought you liked it."

Liked it? I loved it. But I also thought I might need a cane by the end of the week if she kept up this new level of... enthusiasm.

"You do realize I have a full day today, right?" I mumbled as I sat up slowly, every muscle reminding of their existence. "I can’t be walking into etings like I’ve just co back from bootcamp."

She snorted. "Oh please. You loved it. You kept asking for more."

I glared playfully. "That was before I realized you were trying to set a world record. Pretty sure I saw God at one point."

She grinned and leaned in to kiss my cheek. "You did great, daddy. Baby and I are proud."

"Oh, so it’s two against one now?"

"Always has been." She sipped her juice again, smug as hell.

I shook my head and reached for her waist, pulling her back onto the bed with , gently of course. "You’re gonna kill , Ella. But what a way to go..."

She laughed, soft and breathless, curling against with her bump pressed between us. And in that mont—with her in my arms, ssy-haired and happy—I didn’t care if I never slept again.