This was stupid.
Jacob had bought the present. He might as well give it to James.
He grabbed the package off the counter and stomped toward the back door. Jacob paused with his hand on the handle. What the hell? He needed to calm down. Being pissed off at himself would not make this interaction pleasant for James. Jacob needed to get his shit together. He was not going to mess up this time.
No statistics. No bossing James around. And he would not bring up the kiss unless James brought it up first.
With those reminders to himself Jacob carefully pulled open the door. He set off across the yard. His determined steps ate up the distance between the back of his house and the stairs leading up to James’s apartment. Nerves tried to get the best of him but Jacob pushed them down. For over a year he’d been watching, not in a creepy way, just intrigued after realizing James wasn’t the immature brat he’d first thought.
The cold air sent a chill down his neck. Even though it was now January First and it was mid-winter, it didn’t normally get too cold in the city that Jacob had chosen as his home.
Jacob hated the cold. Same as his twin. They’d both chosen to live in parts of the country that didn’t see much snow. Just thinking about the nights that he and his twin had to huddle in one bed with a thin shared blanket turned his stomach.
No. Jacob wasn’t going to think about that. He was not traumatized. He went to a therapist, worked through his issues, and Jacob refused to backslide. Just because James brought out Jacob’s insecurities didn’t mean that Jacob needed to reflect on bullshit.
He took the steps two at a time until he was standing at the front door.
Taking a deep breath, Jacob lifted his hand and knocked. Not too gently where he wouldn’t be heard but not too loud where it sounded angry. Could knocking sound angry? James would probably think so.
Jacob nearly knocked again.
The door swung open and all Jacob could do was stare.
“Ugh, you’re here,” James said. Lifting a dirty hand, James rubbed at the back of his neck.
Dropping his gaze, Jacob tried to figure out what he had interrupted exactly. James had…flour, Jacob hoped that was flour, in his hair, on his cheek, across his nose, and all down the front of his shirt. He really tried not to wince at the mess that he imagined was inside.
James lowered his own eyes. He glanced back up with his cheeks flushed. “Damn, I’m a mess. And I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m glad you’re here. Maybe. I just wasn’t ready.”
An adorable mess. Jacob forced himself not to comment on the curse word. And what did James need to be ready for? The boy always gave so much detail in his stories but Jacob often found himself lost at how to respond. “Is everything okay?” Jacob asked politely. At least James seemed more amused than frustrated.
“Fine.” James waved his hand, inviting Jacob to enter. “I was trying to make you a cake.”
“Make me a cake?” Those words just didn’t make any sense. Even repeating them didn’t give Jacob the details he needed. It wasn’t his birthday. Also, no one had ever made him a cake for any reason.
James flapped his hands. “Yes! Obviously.”
What was obvious? As James stepped back, Jacob entered the apartment. He didn’t smell anything burning or even cooking. White footprints on the previous gleaming wood floors appeared to come from behind the counter.
He closed the door behind him before turning in the direction of the kitchen. While he couldn’t see the entire space from the door, he could see that flour was apparently James’s enemy. “Did you drop a bag of flour?” That wouldn’t be too hard to clean up.
James rolled his eyes. “No. Well not all of it.”
Jacob nodded. He was actually speechless. When he made his way over, Jacob had imagined that he’d have to force James to accept a gift. All of this was strange. A cake? For him? Why?
James huffed. “Come on.” He turned on his heel to stomp back into the kitchen in just his white socks, leaving more footprints behind and making an even bigger mess.
Not knowing what else to do, Jacob followed the boy, making sure not to step into the mess. He stayed on the opposite side of the counter from where James’s disaster was.
There were broken eggshells in the sink with other ingredients half used. James really had been making a cake.
“You were making me a cake,” Jacob said stupidly. He was a professor with three degrees. That was the best that he could come up with? What did this boy do to him?
“I’m trying!” There was a whine in James’s voice. “I should have just bought one from the store. I didn’t realize…” He huffed. “It’s a lot.”
Jacob nodded. He loved to cook and baking was even better. The thing about baking was following recipes exactly. Jacob had always found the process of baking relaxing. “I can help you.” The offer came out before the thought was even complete in his mind.
James narrowed his eyes. “So I’m the asshole that makes you make your own cake.”
