The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Chapter 192: CountDown

Ella’s pov:

I stared at Jason, my brain struggling to process his words. After I woke up and asked what the doctor had told him.

Neutralized?

Still a chance I might be pregnant?

Fucking. Great.

I sat up so fast I nearly headbutted him. "Are you telling me that I went through all that itching, burning, and nearly scratching my skin off, only for the damn pill to be useless?!"

Jason raised his hands in surrender, looking way too calm for someone who just delivered this kind of news. "Technically, the injection saved you from a worse reaction, but yeah... the pill won’t work."

I groaned, running my hands down my face. "And when exactly were you planning on telling me this?"

He hesitated. Oh, this mother—

"I was gonna wait until you ate something first?" he said, as if that made it any better.

I threw a couch pillow at his face. "Jason!"

"Hey, I didn’t do it on purpose!" He caught the pillow with ease, his lips twitching like he was trying not to smirk. "You’re acting like I personally went into the lab and changed the formula."

"You might as well have!" I snapped, crossing my arms.

********

I groaned, rolling onto my side on the couch, my body still feeling sluggish from the whole ordeal. Jason was in the kitchen, clanking around as he prepared something, probably making a mess in the process. My brain still felt a little fuzzy, but the reality of everything that had happened today was slowly setting in.

I had an allergic reaction. Because of him.

I almost died? Okay, maybe not, but Jason sure acted like I did.

And now, because of his stupidity and my bad luck, there was a chance I could be pregnant.

I cracked one eye open and peeked at him through the doorway. He was standing by the counter, focused on whatever he was making, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Did he look like a man panicking about a possible pregnancy? No.

In fact... he looked suspiciously calm.

Too calm.

Something wasn’t right.

I cleared my throat. "Jason."

He turned, holding a plate of food. "Yeah?"

I squinted at him. "You’re acting weird."

His eyes flickered for a fraction of a second, but he quickly recovered. "Weird? I’m making you food, Ella. That’s not weird, that’s husband duties."

I sat up slowly, still eyeing him. "No. You’re too... I don’t know. Suspiciously calm."

He smirked, walking over and handing me the plate. "Would you rather I be crying and pulling my hair out?"

I stabbed my fork into the food without looking. "I don’t know. Maybe a little freaking out would be nice."

Jason sat down on the coffee table in front of me, resting his elbows on his knees. "Ella, there’s no point in freaking out until we know for sure."

I narrowed my eyes. "You better be praying that I’m not pregnant, Jason. Because if I am—"

"You’ll kill me?" he guessed, completely unfazed.

I huffed. "Damn right."

Jason chuckled, shaking his head. "Eat your food, sweetheart."

I scowled at him, but I was hungry, so I started eating.

But as I chewed, my mind raced.

Something’s off.

He’s not nervous. He’s not panicking. He’s not even regretting it.

Then it hit me.

I swallowed my bite and pointed my fork at him. "Oh my God."

Jason blinked. "What?"

"You want me to be pregnant."

His expression didn’t change. He didn’t deny it.

My stomach dropped.

Oh. Hell. No.

I shoved the plate into his hands and shot up from the couch. "Jason King, you better start running."

He sighed, sitting beside me, but I scooted away. I wasn’t in the mood to be near him. Not when he had the audacity to look so unbothered.

I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for me to say something.

"Ella..." he started, his voice softer now.

"What?" I muttered.

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. "Look, I know this is... unexpected, but freaking out won’t change anything. We’ll wait the 72 hours, and whatever happens, we’ll handle it. Together."

I swallowed, my chest tightening at the way he said that.

Together.

I wanted to snap back, to remind him that this wasn’t his body, that he wasn’t the one who would have to go through pregnancy if the worst happened, but...

But.

The way he was looking at me, the way he had panicked when he thought I was in danger, the way he was acting now—it made it really hard to stay mad.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "You’re really annoying, you know that?"

Jason grinned. "Yeah, but you like me."

I snorted. "Debatable."

His grin widened, and despite myself, I felt some of the tension ease away.

72 hours.

I could survive 72 hours without losing my mind.

Probably.

********

72 hours.

72 long, agonizing, stressful hours.

I had never been this hyper-aware of my body before. Every little cramp, every small wave of nausea, every weird twinge had me spiraling. Jason, on the other hand? He was annoyingly calm about it. Too calm.

And that pissed me off.

"Why are you so relaxed?" I snapped at him on the second day as we sat in the living room. I was curled up on the couch, glaring at him as he lounged across from me like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Jason raised a brow. "Would it help if I started panicking?"

"Yes!"

He sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. "Oh no. What shall we do? Whatever will become of us if you’re pregnant? My life is over," he said in the most monotone, uninterested voice.

I grabbed the nearest throw pillow and hurled it at his face.

He caught it effortlessly, looking at me like I was a five-year-old throwing a tantrum. "Babe, relax."

I let out a frustrated groan. "How the hell am I supposed to relax? I could be carrying your child, and you’re sitting there like we’re discussing the weather!"

Jason’s lips twitched like he was trying so hard not to smile.

That bastard.

I squinted at him. "You’re enjoying this."

"Not true." freewёbnoνel.com

"You are! You’re secretly hoping I’m pregnant, aren’t you?"

Silence.

Oh. My. God.

My mouth fell open. "Jason!"

His grin widened. "What? The idea of mini versions of us running around is kind of cute."

I gawked at him. He had lost his mind. "No. Nope. Not happening. We are not having kids."

Jason shrugged. "That’s why I never said anything."

I pointed a warning finger at him. "You better not be manifesting anything."

He laughed, standing up and stretching. "Fine, fine. Whatever happens, happens. I’ll be in the study."

I watched him walk away, still fuming. How was he so damn calm?

I groaned again, sinking deeper into the couch. This was going to be the longest 24 hours of my life.

*********

I wasn’t stupid.

I noticed the way Jason had started calling me babe, sweetheart, and sometimes even princess when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

And the worst part?

I liked it.

I told myself I was just too exhausted to correct him, but that was a lie. Deep down, I knew I didn’t actually want him to stop.

So, I pretended not to notice.

I acted like it didn’t make my heart skip a beat when he casually threw in a "Need anything, sweetheart?" while handing me a glass of water.

Or when he murmured a lazy "Get some rest, babe," before ruffling my hair like I wasn’t secretly overanalyzing every single interaction.

I mean, seriously. When did this happen?

When did we happen?

Because it wasn’t just the pet names—it was everything. The way he looked at me like I was the most interesting thing in the room. The way he somehow always knew when I needed a distraction from my thoughts. The way he made me laugh even when I was actively trying to stay annoyed with him.

And God help me, I knew I was in deep trouble when I started thinking about how Jason would react if I really was pregnant.

Would he be excited? Would he freak out?

Would he—

Nope. Nope. Not going there.

I shook my head, forcing my thoughts away. I had enough stress without adding unnecessary emotions into the mix.

I’d deal with my feelings later.

For now, I just had to survive the next 24 hours.