The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella’s POV

I had never seen Jason panic like this.

Not once. Not even when he was furious, not even when he was planning his elaborate revenge schemes. But right now?

Right now, he was freaking out.

And something inside me... broke.

Or maybe, shifted.

It made me see him in a different light—made me realize that, despite all the teasing, all the arguments, all the chaos... he actually cared.

Like, really cared.

Which was kind of sweet, if I wasn’t also busy being itchy as hell.

Seriously, I wasn’t even in pain. Just covered in red blotches and itching like I had rolled in a field of poison ivy. But Jason?

Jason was behaving like I was bleeding out.

And to make it worse, he kept cursing himself.

"Shit. Stupid pills. I never should have given you that damn thing. What the hell was I thinking? Stupid, stupid—"

"Jason, I’m fine—" I tried to assure him.

"No, you’re not," he snapped, not even looking at me as he carried me out the door.

And he wasn’t listening to me. At all.

He just stormed to the car, practically threw the door open, buckled my seatbelt for me—like I was some kind of invalid—and then?

He floored it.

Red light? Didn’t stop.

Speed limit? Ignored.

Traffic laws? What were those?

All I could do was sit there, watching him grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white, his jaw locked with pure, unfiltered distress.

And all I could think was...

Damn. He really does care.

At first, I wanted to keep arguing, to tell Jason to calm the hell down because I was not dying.

But then I looked at him.

Really looked at him.

And suddenly, I couldn’t.

His jaw was clenched so tightly I was surprised his teeth hadn’t shattered. His hands gripped the steering wheel like he was trying to strangle it. His chest was rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths, and his eyes—god, his eyes were pure panic.

Like he thought he was losing me.

Like he actually believed something horrible was happening.

And that? That knocked the breath right out of my lungs.

This was Jason King. The man who walked around like he was untouchable. The man who smirked in the face of danger, who teased me even when I was furious, who never lost control.

And now?

Now, he was losing his damn mind. Over me.

Damn it.

I didn’t know what to do with this new revelation. So I sat there, itching like crazy, watching him break apart.

When we swerved onto the hospital driveway, I swore we were two seconds away from crashing. Jason slammed the brakes so hard I lurched forward, barely caught by the seatbelt.

Before I could say a single word, Jason was already out of the car, running to my side, ripping the door open.

And then?

He carried me.

Like a princess.

In broad daylight.

For a stupid allergic reaction.

"Jason—" I started, squirming in his arms.

"Shut up," he growled, his grip tightening. "You’re not walking."

"I CAN walk—"

"I SAID SHUT UP."

Well. Okay then.

People were staring as Jason stormed into the hospital like a man on a mission. Nurses gaped. A doctor actually did a double take. And an old lady in the waiting area whispered to her friend, "Now that’s a man who loves his woman."

I choked.

Jason didn’t even notice.

"Someone HELP HER," he barked at the first nurse he saw. "She’s having a reaction—she took some stupid pill—I don’t know what’s happening but FIX IT."

The nurse, clearly startled, quickly waved over a doctor. "Sir, please calm down. We’ll handle it—"

"SHE’S TURNING RED." Jason practically roared.

I facepalmed.

"Sir, please step aside so we can examine her—"

"I’M NOT LEAVING HER."

Oh. My. God.

"Jason, let them do their job!" I hissed, finally managing to wriggle out of his grip. I stumbled onto the hospital bed as the doctor checked my vitals, completely ignoring Jason, who stood beside me fuming like a caged animal.

"Any pain?" the doctor asked.

"No. Just itching."

Jason crossed his arms, still glaring. "Itching isn’t normal. FIX HER."

The doctor sighed, giving me a look like, "Is he always like this?"

I gave a weak smile. "Unfortunately, yes."

After a few checks, the doctor finally nodded. "It’s just a mild allergic reaction. We’ll give her an antihistamine shot, and she’ll be fine."

Jason froze. "A shot?"

I tensed. Oh no.

"NOPE. Not happening," I said immediately.

The doctor frowned. "Miss, it’s the fastest way to—"

"I AM NOT GETTING A SHOT."

Jason let out a scoff. "You can let me carry you around like a princess but you’re scared of a tiny needle?"

I glared daggers at him. "I will throw my shoe at you."

"You already threw a cup at me today, what’s one more?"

This. Damn. Man.

"Jason, I swear to God—"

"Just take the shot, Ella."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"DOCTOR, JUST GIVE IT TO HER."

"JASON, I SWEAR TO—OW!"

I gasped as the doctor sneakily jabbed the needle into my arm.

Betrayal.

Jason smirked. "There. Was that so hard?"

I kicked him in the shin.

"Ow—what the hell?!"

"That’s for not using protection!"

Jason grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue. Instead, he sat beside me, arms crossed, watching me like a damn hawk until the doctor finished up.

"She’s good to go. Just avoid that pill in the future," the doctor said, handing me some cream for the itching.

Jason immediately stood. "Alright. Let’s go home."

"Who said I’m going anywhere with you?" I huffed, still annoyed.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, don’t start. You know you want me."

I scoffed. "Want? HA. Who said anything about wanting you?"

He smirked, leaning in close. "You did. Last night. Repeatedly."

I choked on air.

The doctor excused himself.

And Jason?

Jason grinned like the devil.

Just as I was about to murder Jason with my glare, the doctor returned, clearing his throat.

"Mr. King, may I speak with you in private?"

Jason tensed beside me. "Why? What’s wrong?"

The doctor glanced at me, then back at Jason. "It’s regarding your wife’s results."

Oh.

Yeah, the whole hospital definitely knew he was my husband now.

Great. Just great.

Jason hesitated, throwing me a quick look before nodding. "Fine."

I watched as he followed the doctor out of the room, my stomach twisting. What kind of results? I was just having an allergic reaction—wasn’t I?

I stared at the door, suddenly feeling uneasy.