NOVEL The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine Chapter 95: Morning After

The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Chapter 95: Morning After
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Chapter 95: Morning After

Jason POV:

I couldn’t stop thinking about how her face had softened as she fell asleep, her usual guarded expression replaced by something so serene it almost made my chest ache. The delicate rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips were slightly parted, the golden strands of hair framing her face—it was a picture burned into my mind, one I’d probably never forget.

But then, of course, my guilt started creeping in. I mean, watching her sleep? What was I, some kind of stalker? And let’s not even talk about the forehead kiss. What the hell had I been thinking? I knew I was taking a risk with that, but I couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t some grand romantic gesture; it wasn’t about trying to prove anything to her. It was just... a moment. A moment where I let myself feel the depth of what I was starting to realize: I was falling for her. Hard.

And then there was the memory of what I had done before—before tonight, before I had figured out that the feelings I had for her weren’t fleeting. I had barged into her life like a bull in a china shop, my jealousy and arrogance driving my every action. I had cornered her, pushed her, tried to make her body react to me as if that would mean something. And yes, she had reacted, but not because she wanted me—because I’d forced her into a situation she couldn’t escape.

God, I hated myself for that. I hated that I had been so blinded by my own emotions, my own insecurity, that I hadn’t stopped to think about what she wanted. I was a jerk. A narcissistic, jealous jerk. But I wasn’t that guy anymore. I couldn’t be—not if I wanted even the faintest chance with her. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Tonight had been different. For the first time, I hadn’t tried to push her, hadn’t tried to force her to feel something for me. I had just... been there. I’d respected her space (mostly) and let her set the tone. And maybe, just maybe, I’d managed to earn a tiny sliver of her trust. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

And damn it, I was going to prove to her that I wasn’t the same selfish asshole she probably thought I was. I wasn’t just going to change for her; I was going to be better because of her. Because Ella deserved someone who saw her for who she was, who valued her for more than just her looks or her fire. She deserved someone who would knock on the door of her life rather than barging in and demanding her attention.

I didn’t sleep much that night, but when I finally drifted off, my dreams were filled with her. Those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through my bullshit, that long golden hair that shimmered like sunlight, and that angelic face that could turn downright deadly when provoked. She was a walking contradiction, and I was utterly, hopelessly captivated by every piece of her.

Tomorrow, I told myself as I stared up at the ceiling in the early hours of the morning, tomorrow I’d start proving to her that I could be someone worth letting in. No more games, no more barging in, no more trying to force things. I’d take it slow. I’d be patient. And maybe, just maybe, I’d earn the chance to see that peaceful expression on her face again—only this time, she’d know I was there.

Ella POV:

I woke up on the couch, my body stiff and sore from the awkward sleeping position. The wrapper I usually use when staying up late was draped over me. Blinking against the morning light, I stretched and rubbed my eyes, the events of yesterday slowly flooding back into my mind. Jason.

I bolted upright, scanning the room like a deer caught in headlights, half-expecting to see him lounging on the couch or rummaging through my fridge. But, to my relief—and maybe a tiny sliver of disappointment—he was gone. Of course, he was. The guy was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. He probably knew I’d strangle him if I woke up to find him still here.

My gaze landed on the coffee table, where a neatly folded note sat, mocking me with its very presence. I snatched it up and read:

"Sorry I didn’t carry you to your bed, but I know you wouldn’t have appreciated me invading your privacy. I hope the couch isn’t too bad. I left knowing if you found me here, I’d be dead meat. Anyway, thanks for the notes. Sleep tight."

I stared at the note for a moment, re-reading it, trying to process the fact that Jason—the arrogant, cocky Jason—had written something so... considerate? No, cheesy. Definitely cheesy. But damn it if it didn’t bring a stupid smile to my face.

"Okay, stop it, Ella," I muttered to myself, tossing the note back onto the table like it had burned me. "Get a grip. You don’t smile at cheesy notes from Jason of all people."

I swung my legs off the couch and stretched again, groaning as the stiffness from sleeping on the lumpy cushions worked its way out of my body. A glance at the clock told me I had a whole morning ahead of me to shake off whatever spell he’d cast over me last night. I needed to shower, get my life in order, and—most importantly—forget that Jason had ever been in my apartment. For the second time, no less.

The first time, he’d been an insufferable, frustrating idiot, barging in like he owned the place and driving me to the brink of madness. But last night? Last night, he’d been... different. Softer. Cheesy.

I shook my head furiously, trying to dislodge the thought. No, I was not going to entertain the idea of Jason being anything other than a rich, spoiled pain in the ass. A pain in the ass who bought all my favorite snacks. And left me cute little notes. And smiled at me like I was the only person in the world.

"Stop it!" I said aloud, as if saying it with force would somehow erase the growing warmth in my chest. "He’s not some kind of... cheesy crush. He’s just... Jason. Annoying, smug, frustrating Jason."

I stood up, grabbed the wrapper, and threw it over the armrest, determined to act like none of this had ever happened. Except it had, and no amount of showering was going to wash away the memory of him sitting on my couch, giving me those ridiculous dimples, or the way he’d carefully covered me up before leaving.

"Ugh, stupid Jason," I grumbled, stomping toward the bathroom. But even as I stepped into the shower, I couldn’t stop the small, traitorous smile that tugged at my lips.

...

Alright, Ella, deep breaths. It’s just another day. Act normal. Nothing happened last night. Jason didn’t spend hours in your apartment studying, didn’t leave a surprisingly sweet note, and you definitely don’t remember the way he smiled at you between bites of chips. Nope. None of that. It’s all in the past. Forget it. Move on.

As I walked into school, hood pulled low over my head and mask snugly covering the lower half of my face, I told myself the same mantra I’d been using for months: Keep your head down. Ignore the world. Two more months, and I’m out of here.

Amber Prescott’s fall from her self-made pedestal had done wonders for the school atmosphere. No more scheming glances, whispered insults, or sudden confrontations in the hallway. She’d disappeared into thin air after her family’s drama hit the fan, and honestly, good riddance. It wasn’t my problem anymore. The quiet was a blessing I fully intended to savor.

But of course, peace never lasts. Especially not in my life.

As I rounded the corner, I spotted them—Jason, Max, and Dylan. The unholy trio. The walking headache brigade.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, quickly ducking my head lower and trying to disappear into the crowd. Maybe if I looked small enough, unremarkable enough, they’d pass me by.

But no. My luck, as always, was non-existent.

"Ella!" Max’s voice boomed, his chipper tone echoing down the hallway like a warning siren. I didn’t need to look up to know Dylan was probably smirking like the smooth-talking flirt he thought he was, while Jason... God, I didn’t even want to think about Jason.

Just keep walking. Maybe they’re not talking to me. Maybe there’s another Ella they’re harassing today.

"Ella! Hey!" Max shouted again, louder this time, as if determined to shatter my fragile bubble of denial.

Damn it.

I froze mid-step, my shoulders tensing as I felt their presence closing in. Slowly, reluctantly, I turned around, pulling my mask down just enough to talk. "What do you want?"

Max grinned at me, completely unfazed by my death glare. "Good morning to you too, sunshine! Missed you yesterday. We didn’t see you getting off work yesterday. Did you miss me?"

I blinked at him, unamused. "No."

Max clutched his chest dramatically. "Ouch! Straight for the heart, Elly. You’re so cruel."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "If you don’t have a point, I’m leaving."

Dylan, who had been leaning casually against the lockers like he owned the place, stepped forward with his trademark smirk. "You look tense, Ella. Someone keeping you up at night?"

I stiffened, my eyes darting to Jason before I could stop myself. He wasn’t smirking like Dylan or teasing like Max. He was just... looking at me. Quiet, calm, and completely unreadable.

Shit. Don’t blush. Do not blush.

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