The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

ELLA POV:

Jeez, he’s here.

I spotted him the second he walked through the diner doors, and damn it, why does he have to look so good today? Seriously, did he wake up and decide, "You know what? Let me make Ella’s day ten times harder by looking like I just walked out of a GQ cover?"

Nope. Nope. We are NOT doing this, Ella. Focus. Act normal.

I kept my eyes glued to the order I was jotting down, pretending I didn’t notice him walking straight to the counter. The closer he got, the harder it was to ignore the stupid flutter in my chest. Ugh, get a grip, Ella.

He leaned on the counter, his signature grin firmly in place. "Hey."

Oh, great. There it was—the charm he wielded like a weapon.

I didn’t even bother looking up right away, letting out an unimpressed "Oh, it’s you," before finally meeting his eyes.

And there it was again—my brain momentarily short-circuiting. Why does he have to have those eyes? The kind that make you forget for a second why you’re annoyed.

"Miss me?" he asked, and the audacity in his tone made me snap out of whatever spell I was under.

"Nope." I popped the P for extra effect, hoping it masked the stupid little tug at my lips threatening to form.

He smirked, of course. "Harsh, Ella. Harsh."

I busied myself with rearranging receipts behind the counter, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my full attention.

"What do you want, Jason?" I asked, keeping my tone as flat as possible.

He grinned wider, pulling out the book excuse like I knew he would. "Just came to grab my book. You know, the one I so generously lent you so you wouldn’t fail miserably?"

Ugh. I rolled my eyes, reaching under the counter to grab it. "Right, because clearly I can’t survive without your oh-so-precious notes."

"You’re welcome," he quipped, like he was some knight in shining armor.

I slid the book toward him, silently praying he’d just take it and leave. But of course, Jason being Jason, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Instead, he leaned in closer, lowering his voice like we were sharing some secret.

"So, about that deal I just closed..."

I looked up, raising an eyebrow. "What about it?"

He shrugged, casual as ever. "I was thinking of celebrating. And you, Ella, should join me. After all, you’re my lucky charm."

Lucky charm? Oh, this guy.

I snorted. "Lucky charm? That’s a stretch."

"Hey, the facts don’t lie," he said, all confident and smug. "You reply to my text, I seal a multimillion-dollar deal. Coincidence? I think not."

Okay, so maybe that was kinda funny, but I wasn’t about to let him win this round.

"I don’t do celebrations," I said, turning back to the receipts.

"Not even for free food?" he countered, leaning even closer.

I paused, my pen hovering mid-air. "Free food, huh?"

"Yup. Your pick," he added, like he’d just solved world hunger.

I shook my head, trying not to let the small smile escape. "You’re relentless, you know that?"

He grinned wider. "I prefer the term persistent."

Before I could respond, a customer called for a refill, giving me the perfect out. "Well, persistent, I’ve got work to do."

Jason didn’t push any further, just grabbed his book, gave me one last smile that I refused to acknowledge out.

So that’s where he’s been all this time—working, sealing multimillion-dollar deals. Lucky bastard.

I mean, good for him, right? But why does he have to look so smug about it? It’s like he knows the effect he has, and it’s infuriating. Still, I don’t think I’ll go. I’ve already told him—I don’t do celebrations. The only celebration I care about is surviving the monthly warzone that is my periods.

But no, Mr. Multimillion-Dollar-Deal had to come in here, all confidence and charm, and then sit down at the table closest to the counter.

Seriously?

I could feel his gaze, like he was daring me to look at him. And okay, maybe I stole a glance or two—just quick ones! But every time our eyes met, my stupid heart did this weird thing where it skipped a beat.

This was not okay.

I needed to get him out of here—fast. The last thing I needed was to be a flustered mess while trying to do my job.

Grabbing my notepad, I made my way over to his table, plastering on my best "I’m totally unaffected by you" face.

"Jason," I started, trying to sound as unimpressed as possible, "are you planning to sit here all day, or did you actually want to order something?"

He leaned back in his chair, grinning like the smug idiot he is. "Depends. What’s good today?"

"Everything," I said flatly. "Pick something or move along."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Alright, fine. Just a coffee—but only if it comes with one of your trademark smiles. Otherwise, it’s just not the same."

Oh, for the love of—was he flirting?

I gave him a tight smile, refusing to let him see that his stupid line actually made my stomach do a little flip. "Coming right up," I muttered, turning on my heel before he could say anything else.

Back at the counter, I busied myself with making his coffee, all the while trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck.

Why does he have to be like this? Why can’t he just be the obnoxious guy I used to hate? It was so much easier then. Now, with every text, every glance, and every infuriating grin, he’s worming his way into my head.

Nope. Not happening.

I placed his coffee in front of him with a little more force than necessary. "Here you go. Enjoy."

"Thanks, Ella," he said, his tone softer now. Almost... sincere?

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just nodded and walked away, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

But of course, Jason being Jason, he didn’t budge. Instead, he stayed there, sipping his coffee and throwing the occasional glance my way.

Okay, let’s be honest. Its the stupid cramps fault. I blame the cramps. Because since those stupid things decided to make an appearance, I’ve started seeing Jason in a totally crazy light. And I hate it. Seriously, I can’t even look at him without my mind going a hundred different directions.

But nope, I refuse to fall into whatever trap this is. So, I need to pull the coach card. I need to make him leave, before I lose my mind.

I keep glancing at him as he sips his coffee slowly, clearly in no rush to go anywhere. Ugh.

By the time his cup was empty, I’d had enough. I walked back over, arms crossed. "Anything else?"

He smiled, standing up and grabbing his book. "Nope. Just wanted to see my favorite barista."

I rolled my eyes so hard they practically got stuck. "Favorite, huh? You must not get out much."

Alright, fine. Time to play the game.

"Are you skipping classes and practices now?" I asked, trying to sound casual, but there was an edge to my voice. "Guess Coach doesn’t know you’re here."

Jason raised an eyebrow and then grinned like he knew exactly what I was doing. "Oh, I called in. Told him I’d be busy today."

I smirked, pulling out my phone and holding it up as if I were going to snap a picture. "Oh really? What a coincidence."

His eyes widened in mock horror. "Uuh, Ella, what are you doing?"

I smirked, trying to keep a straight face. "Why, taking your photo, of course."

And then, to my surprise, he actually grinned and started posing.

"I bet Coach would love this excellent posing," I said, letting out a snort.

Jason cursed under his breath, grabbing his phone quickly. "You’re lucky you’re cute," he muttered, clearly trying not to laugh. "I’ll get you back for this."

He grabbed his things and stood up, clearly not wanting to waste any more time posing. "Pick you later at eight," he said, winking at me as he rushed for the door.

I watched him walk out, shaking my head.

Good. That should do it.

I laughed to myself as I turned back to the counter. Sure, I knew he’d be back. He always came back. But for now, I had a little peace—and my sanity, for a few more minutes.

I let out a breath, leaning against the counter.

Why does he have to be so... him? Ugh. This guy is going to drive me insane.

Jeez, Ella. Get a grip.

Why does he always have to be so... him?

Wait a second. Did he really just say, "Pick you later at eight?"

I froze for a second, processing it. Nope, he definitely said it.

Fuck. I did not agree to that. Did I?

My heart skipped a beat as the reality of the situation settled in. Why the hell did he think I’d just automatically agree to meet up with him?

I rubbed my temples, trying to focus. Okay, calm down, Ella. You did not say yes. He’s just being Jason—always trying to push his luck.

But still, the thought of him at eight... a part of me—against my better judgment—kind of wanted to know what he had in mind.

Ugh, no! Stop it, Ella.

I quickly turned my attention to the counter, trying to shake the thought out of my head. I did not agree to any of this. I just need to focus on work, not whatever this weird thing with Jason is becoming.

But why did my stomach feel like it was flipping?

I groaned inwardly, rubbing my forehead. Maybe I’d just pretend I didn’t hear him, or maybe I’d pull the classic "busy" excuse. That would definitely do the trick.

I could do this. I was not about to give in.