The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

JASON’S POV

I wasn’t sure if it was the right time to ask.

Ella was curled against me, her head tucked beneath my chin, her hand resting where the baby had kicked earlier. Everything in the moment felt soft—warm, domestic, almost too perfect to mess with.

But I had to ask.

Max and Dylan had been meaning to visit for weeks now. Always texting me, always asking how she was doing, how the baby was, if I thought she’d ever speak to them again.

The truth? They were terrified.

And yeah, I got it.

They were part of the stupid bet. The one that nearly cost me everything.

But they’d also been my brothers long before I made that mistake. They’d supported me during the worst days—when Ella wasn’t speaking to me, when I thought the divorce papers were inevitable, when I felt like I’d destroyed the only good thing in my life.

They were idiots. Just like me.

But they were sorry. Truly.

And I wanted them to be part of this—us.

To meet my kid someday and know that they helped me become a better man.

So I cleared my throat, running my fingers slowly through Ella’s hair. She hummed softly, not quite awake but not fully asleep either.

"Hey," I murmured. "Can I ask you something?"

She tilted her head up slightly, eyes still heavy. "Hmm?"

I hesitated, then just said it.

"I was thinking of inviting Max and Dylan over. Just for an hour or two. They’ve been asking. Said they want to see you, check in—just didn’t want to overstep since... you know."

Her eyes opened a bit more. Watching.

"They’re really sorry, El. For the bet. For being a part of it. They feel like crap. I think they just need to know that you don’t hate them forever."

She didn’t say anything at first. I waited.

Then she smiled—slow, wicked, the kind of smile that made my heart both thrill and panic.

"Tell them I’ve forgiven them," she said sweetly. Too sweetly. "Invite them over."

I squinted. "Just like that?"

Her grin widened. "Yeah. But we’re going to have a little fun first."

I blinked. "Define fun."

"Oh, you’re going to call them and tell them I’m cool now. Tell them it’s all water under the bridge. They’ll come in, all relieved. And I’ll act like I’m still the devil incarnate."

"...Wait."

"I’m talking full-on hell hath no fury. Fire in my eyes, fury in my voice. They’ll regret walking through that door."

I stared at her for a beat. Then—laughing—I kissed the top of her head.

"You’re evil."

"I’m pregnant. There’s a difference."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side again."

She patted my chest sweetly. "Smart man."

I chuckled, already reaching for my phone.

This was going to be fun.

ELLA’S POV

The devil in me was wide awake.

Jason had just left the room after giving me the thumbs-up. Max and Dylan were on their way—his old college friends, partners-in-crime, and co-authors of The Bet That Should Have Never Been Made. And now? They were about to walk into the performance of my life.

I’d agreed to this—well, more than agreed. I’d plotted this. The moment Jason mentioned they were nervous about seeing me, unsure whether I’d forgiven them for their role in that bet, I saw an opportunity.

"Let me prank them," I told him, eyes glittering. "Let me scare the living hell out of them. Just for a bit."

Jason hesitated. But only for a second. Then he grinned and kissed my forehead. "You’re evil. I love it."

Now here I was—barefoot, pregnant, and dressed in the most dramatic black satin robe I owned. My hair was up in a messy bun that screamed ’I have no time for your nonsense’, and I sat on the couch like an empress awaiting her traitorous council.

When Jason sent me the message—"They’re here"—I flung a throw blanket over myself like a cape, placed a bowl of popcorn in my lap for effect, and perfected the slow, judgmental eyebrow raise in the mirror.

It was showtime.

The door opened.

I didn’t look up. I didn’t need to. I could already hear Max’s annoyingly upbeat voice echoing down the hallway.

"Yo, Jas! Your place smells like—wait, is that lasagna or... oh god, is she baking again? Should we run?"

Dylan snorted. "If she’s baking, I’m staying. Her cookies are worth the risk of bodily injury."

Jason chuckled dryly. "Be careful what you wish for, man."

Their laughter followed them into the living room—and that’s when I lifted my gaze.

I said nothing. Just looked at them.

Deadpan. Icy.

The temperature dropped at least twenty degrees.

Max stopped mid-laugh, the color draining from his face. Dylan slowed to a crawl, his hands immediately going up in a peace offering.

"Ella," Max said carefully. "Hey... you look... radiant."

"Save it," I said coolly.

Jason walked past them like he hadn’t just fed his best friends to a lioness in silk. He tossed me a wink as he headed into the kitchen, leaving the sacrificial lambs alone with me.

Dylan gulped. "Look, Ella, we just wanted to—"

"You," I interrupted, pointing at Max with a slow, accusatory finger, "called me a ’tight-assed frost queen’ in your group chat, didn’t you?"

Max went pale. "I—it was—Dylan said it first!"

"Traitor!" Dylan hissed at him.

I stood up slowly, clutching my back with one hand like the dramatic pregnant villain I was channeling. "After everything, after carrying this baby—this beautiful, stubborn baby with his father’s gigantic head—you think you two can just waltz into my house without groveling?"

Max looked like he was ready to faint.

"I told Jason this was a bad idea," he whispered to Dylan. "She’s still hormonal. She could kill us and claim temporary insanity."

"She wouldn’t do that," Dylan said nervously, not sounding sure.

"Try me," I said flatly, glaring.

Max shifted toward the door. "Okay. Okay. You know what? We came to say sorry. So here it is. I’m sorry, Ella. We were immature, stupid, reckless idiots. We never should’ve made that bet. You were right to hate us. I—oh god, is she crying?!"

I blinked. I hadn’t even realized it, but tears had started gathering in my eyes. Not because I was actually mad—God, no, I was trying so hard not to laugh—but pregnancy had a weird way of not giving a damn about what emotion you were trying to express.

Jason peeked in from the kitchen.

"You okay, babe?"

"I’m fine," I sniffed, milking it now. "Just... betrayed. But I guess I should’ve expected that from people who once dared each other to streak through the lecture hall."

Dylan groaned. "Okay, that was one time."

"And Jason has been suffering plenty," I added, taking a slow, ominous step forward. "Did you know I’ve made him sleep on the floor at least twice? Once without a pillow?"

Jason, now sipping juice from the fridge, looked smug. "She really did. My spine still hates me."

"And," I continued, lowering my voice theatrically, "he’s been my midnight snack runner. KFC, chocolate, fries. All. The. Time."

Max shook his head. "Dude. That’s just love."

I held up a hand. "Silence. I’m not done."

Both men stood at attention like I was their drill sergeant. It was glorious.

"From now on," I said slowly, "every time you come into my house, you will bring me a peace offering. Chocolate, snacks, maybe a foot massage coupon. And you will look me in the eye and say, ’Oh Glorious Ella, Forgiver of Fools and Queen of Sass, we are not worthy.’"

Max’s mouth fell open. "You’re joking." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Jason started choking on his drink.

"Try me," I repeated, dead serious.

Dylan nudged Max. "Just do it. It’s better than her throwing slippers at us. Remember what happened to Alex at that dinner party?"

"Oh god, the fork incident," Max whispered.

They both dropped to their knees, dramatically pressing their hands together in a mock prayer.

"Oh Glorious Ella," Max began, suppressing a grin, "Forgiver of Fools and Queen of Sass, we are not worthy."

"Better," I said, giving them a regal nod.

Jason finally lost it in the kitchen, laughter booming out of him as he leaned on the counter.

That was it. I broke. I clutched my belly, laughing so hard I nearly peed myself.

"Okay! Okay, truce!" I gasped, collapsing back onto the couch.

Max stared. "Wait—you were messing with us?"

"Hook, line, and sinker," Jason added smugly as he returned to the living room.

I wiped tears from my eyes. "You two looked like I was going to sacrifice you to my unborn child."

Dylan shook his head, flopping onto the couch beside me. "I hate you both. So much."

"But you love me more," I teased.

Max grumbled but pulled out a chocolate bar from his jacket pocket and held it up. "I come bearing peace offerings."

I snatched it greedily. "You may live."

The rest of the evening passed with laughter, snacks, and a lot of teasing. We all curled up in the living room—me in the center, belly on display, Jason’s arm around my shoulders.

Dylan leaned over after a while, peering at my bump. "So... how’s baby Frosty doing?"

"He’s moody," I replied. "And likes kicking when I’m trying to sleep."

As if on cue, a little thump hit my ribs.

I gasped. "Oh my God—he just kicked! Here!"

Jason immediately shifted, placing his hand over mine on my stomach.

"I felt it!" he said, grinning like a lunatic. "He’s saying hi to his uncles."

Max leaned forward cautiously. "Can I—?"

"Yeah, come here."

They both reached out, and when the next little kick came, Max’s eyes widened.

"Dude," he whispered, clearly in awe. "There’s a whole baby in there."

Dylan laughed. "Took you this long to realize that?"

Jason looked down at me, then kissed my forehead. "Thanks for forgiving them."

I nestled closer. "Well... don’t expect me to make it easy every time."

"Oh we know," Dylan muttered. "Trust me. We know."