The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Jason POV:

Just as I was about to say something else to annoy Ella, the professor’s voice cut through the classroom like a knife.

"Jason, care to answer the question?"

Fuck. What question? I hadn’t been paying attention at all. I blinked, scrambling for something—anything—that could save me from looking like an idiot in front of the whole class. My eyes darted to Ella, but she was no help, still staring straight ahead like she didn’t even know I existed. Great.

"Uh..." I started, trying to piece together something from the vague background noise I’d been ignoring. "Could you, uh, repeat the question?"

The professor gave me that disapproving look professors seem to have mastered, like he was personally offended I didn’t have his entire lecture memorized. "We were discussing the impact of globalization on modern economics. Surely you’ve heard of it?"

I nodded, as if I had the foggiest idea what he was talking about. "Yeah, of course, globalization... It’s, um, really global."

A couple of snickers floated from the back of the class. Fantastic. Ella, of course, was still ignoring me, but I swore I saw the corners of her mouth twitch just a little.

"Well, thank you for that profound insight," the professor said, his sarcasm thick enough to cut. "Let’s move on."

As the class went back to its usual monotony, I leaned over to Ella again, unable to help myself. "Thanks for the assist there," I whispered. "You really know how to leave a guy hanging."

She shot me a sideways glance but still didn’t say anything. Alright, fine. If she was going to keep up this silent treatment, I’d just have to switch tactics.

I shifted in my seat, letting my knee bump hers under the desk. Subtle, right? When that didn’t get a reaction, I let my hand casually drop onto her thigh. Hey, it was a risky move, but I was feeling bold. I leaned in closer, my voice low and teasing. "You know, if you want to play this little silent game, I can play too. But I’ve got a feeling you’ll crack first."

Alright, so maybe I was pushing my luck. But come on, who wouldn’t? Ella was fascinating—a mystery I couldn’t solve, and that was both annoying and kind of... hot. And today, she looked even more untouchable than usual, with her dark hoodie on and that icy "don’t even try it" expression plastered across her face. But I wasn’t backing down. Not today.

Alright, maybe I should’ve let it go. But, come on—Ella was something else, and ignoring me was just fueling my need to mess with her even more. We were still sitting in class, and while the professor droned on about God knows what, I could feel the tension between us. Ella’s silent treatment was driving me insane, but I wasn’t backing down that easily.

I leaned in, making sure to keep my voice low so the professor wouldn’t hear. "So, how did you do it?" I asked, glancing at her from the side, hoping to catch a flicker of interest.

Silence.

"Ella," I leaned in again, my voice dropping to a lower, more suggestive tone, "you know, we’ve got this chemistry, right? It’s undeniable. Maybe you and I should... explore it." I flashed my best grin, the one that usually had girls practically melting.

She didn’t even glance up from her book. Just a flat, deadpan, "I’d rather explore a sewer."

Ouch. But I wasn’t done. I shifted my chair a little closer, so our knees almost brushed. I knew she felt it. "Come on, don’t be like that," I whispered, leaning in just enough that she’d feel my breath on her neck. "You can play hard to get, but we both know you like the chase. Admit it—you want me."

Finally, she looked at me—well, more like glared. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but there was that flicker again, that spark I couldn’t resist. I leaned in even closer, letting my hand rest casually on her thigh. Just light enough to test the waters.

Her expression didn’t change, but I could feel her tense up for a second. Victory, right? Not quite.

Out of nowhere, she leaned toward me, her face now just inches away from mine. "You really wanna play this game, Jason?" she purred, her voice suddenly low and silky, sending an unexpected chill down my spine. Was she... playing along?

Oh, this was getting interesting.

Before I could even process what was happening, she slid her hand down, lightly grazing my thigh. It was slow, deliberate... intimate. My cocky grin widened. **This** was more like it.

"That’s more like it," I murmured, already picturing how this would go. Finally, she was giving in. But before I could savor my victory—

WHAM.

Her hand shot up and clamped down on a much more sensitive area, and let me tell you—this wasn’t a playful touch. Nope. She had a grip like a damn vice, and it took everything in me not to yelp like a wounded puppy.

I froze, wide-eyed, my breath catching in my throat as she leaned in even closer. Her voice was all honey and venom when she whispered, "If you don’t get your hand off my thigh right now, Jason, I swear I will crush this pathetic excuse for a cock into dust."

She punctuated the threat with a small squeeze—just enough to let me know she wasn’t kidding.

I blinked, completely caught off guard. "W-Whoa, okay! Let’s not do anything crazy!" I stammered, trying to play it cool, even though my voice had jumped an octave. My hand shot up from her thigh like it had caught fire. "We can talk about this like adults, right?"

Holy shit.

"Let me make something clear," she whispered, her voice so sweet it made the threat ten times scarier. "If you don’t stop trying to mess with me, I’ll make sure you won’t be using this again. Ever."

I could barely breathe. The grip she had on me wasn’t playful; it was lethal. I was pretty sure she wasn’t bluffing either.

"Okay, okay," I managed to choke out, raising my hands in surrender. "Truce, alright? Let’s call a truce."

Ella raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my sudden shift in attitude. "Oh, now you wanna truce?" she purred, giving another squeeze for good measure.

"I-I’m all for talking," I said quickly, trying to smile through the pain while simultaneously fearing for the future of my, uh, assets. "Talking is great. We can talk all day."

She held me there for a few more agonizing seconds, just long enough to make me seriously reevaluate my life choices, before finally letting go with a smirk. I immediately slumped back in my chair, letting out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.

"That’s better," she said sweetly, leaning back in her own chair, completely unbothered. "Now, keep your hands to yourself, or next time, I won’t be so gentle."

"Gentle?! You call that gentle?!" I muttered under my breath, still wincing as I discreetly adjusted my jeans. Damn, I’m not sure if I’d be able to walk properly for the rest of the day.

She shot me a look, and I immediately shut up. Alright, maybe I had underestimated her. This girl was dangerous.

But... also kind of hot. Even if she had just nearly destroyed my manhood.

As I sat there, nursing my wounded pride, I couldn’t help but grin at her. "You know, you’ve got a weird way of flirting, El."

Without missing a beat, she smirked back. "And you’ve got a weird way of surviving. Keep pushing your luck, Jason."

She smiled innocently and let go, casually returning her attention to the professor as if she hadn’t just threatened to destroy my ability to reproduce.

I sat there, trying to steady my breathing, while the class continued like nothing had happened. Damn, this girl was something else. And somehow, I liked her even more for it.

God, I think I was falling for her even harder.

Ella POV:

Oh. My. God. If this idiot touches me one more time, I swear I’m going to lose it.

I felt Jason’s knee bump into mine, and I had to resist the urge to just kick him under the desk. Was it so hard for him to sit still for once? Did he have some kind of condition where he just *had* to annoy the shit out of me every second of the day?

Then, like the genius he is, he drops his hand onto my thigh. Really? In the middle of class? With the professor *right there*? My blood was boiling, but I kept my cool on the outside. If this guy thought he could get under my skin, he had no idea who he was dealing with.

I gave him the cold shoulder, acting like he didn’t even exist. He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against my ear like he was about to say something smooth. Yeah, because *that* was going to work. "You know, if you want to play this little silent game, I can play too," he whispered, clearly thinking he had the upper hand. "But I’ve got a feeling you’ll crack first."

Oh, he had a feeling, did he? That cocky little smirk was practically screaming for me to wipe it off his face. Fine. You want to play? Let’s play.

Without giving him any warning, I let my hand slide down his leg, slow and deliberate. The look on his face said it all—he thought I was giving in. Like I’d let him win that easily.