Chapter 6: The Hoodie Situation
771 Words
It was cold.
The library’s ancient HVAC system had apparently given up on functioning, and Lena sat huddled at her usual study carrel, hugging herself and praying her fingers wouldn’t go numb before she finished the outline for their joint project. She wore her usual button-up, her hair was up in a pencil bun, and she had three pens clipped to the collar of her shirt like a walking stationery kit—but none of that helped her stay warm.
Jace, of course, wasn’t cold. He was wearing a soft gray hoodie under his leather jacket like some off-brand Calvin Klein model who didn’t understand the concept of personal space or seasonal suffering. He sprawled across the opposite side of the table, long legs stretched out, chewing the end of his pen with a look of mild boredom and irritating handsomeness.
“Are you shaking?” he asked suddenly.
“No,” Lena lied through chattering teeth.
Jace’s eyes narrowed. “You’re totally shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
He stood up and, before she could react, peeled the hoodie off in one fluid motion. His T-shirt underneath rode up just slightly, revealing a sliver of skin and the faintest trace of ink curling along his ribs.
Lena looked away fast enough to give herself whiplash.
“Here.” He tossed the hoodie at her. It hit her in the face like a cozy missile.
“I’m not taking your hoodie.”
“You’re cold.”
“I’m fine.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Then why are your teeth auditioning for a percussion ensemble?”
She scowled, but the moment her hands touched the soft fabric, her resolve began to crumble. It was warm. Really warm. Like it had been storing sunbeams and defiance.
“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, pulling it over her head anyway.
It was massive. It smelled like citrus, laundry detergent, and something undeniably him. The sleeves swallowed her hands completely. She was a burrito of awkward decisions and unexpected comfort.
When she looked up, Jace was staring.
“What?”
He shrugged. “You look cute.”
Lena blinked. “No, I don’t.”
“You really do.”
She tried to ignore the way her stomach flipped like a gymnast on Red Bull. “Focus, Blackwood. We have a project.”
He grinned but didn’t argue.
⸻
Twenty minutes passed. They actually got work done. Lena got used to the warmth. And the scent. And how his hoodie made her feel oddly safe, like she’d been cocooned in a bubble of mischief and quiet affection.
But of course, the peace couldn’t last.
“Hey, Jace,” a voice purred from behind her. “Nice hoodie. That new?”
Lena turned to find Tori Miles, who wore lip gloss like armor and had once bragged about dating a college freshman for two weeks straight, raising an eyebrow at her.
Jace looked from Tori to Lena, then back to Tori. “Not new. Just… temporarily borrowed.”
“Ohhh,” Tori said, her gaze sliding over Lena with laser precision. “Right. Borrowed.”
Lena felt her face go up in flames.
Tori winked. “Cute.”
Then she disappeared with the confidence of someone who always got what she wanted.
Lena pulled the sleeves over her hands. “I’m never wearing this again.”
Jace snorted. “Why not?”
“Because now everyone thinks we’re—”
“Close?”
She frowned at him.
He tilted his head. “You are wearing my hoodie, Carter. That’s, like, third-base in high school terms.”
Lena gasped. “It is not!”
“Tell that to the girl with the lip gloss and the evil stare.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Yet here you are. Wrapped in my hoodie. Looking like you might actually smile before the world ends.”
Lena’s lips betrayed her with a small, shy curve.
Jace saw it. Of course he did.
And then, to make matters worse—or maybe better—he leaned forward and added softly, “You can keep it.”
“What?”
“The hoodie. Keep it. Looks better on you.”
She blinked. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Plus, now I’ll have a reason to steal it back.”
Lena didn’t say anything. She just lowered her gaze and tried very hard not to explode on the inside.
Jace went back to his notes like he hadn’t just launched a flirtation grenade into her carefully organized world.
And Lena?
Well, Lena kept the hoodie.
Even when it stopped being cold.
- Writer
