“We can talk while you eat,” Jacob replied. He snagged James’s helmet and backpack, setting them on the countertop by the back door before placing a hand on James’s back.
James allowed himself to be towed toward the small table in the corner of the kitchen.
“Sit,” Jacob ordered. “I have some soup left over from my own dinner.”
“What kind of soup?” James asked as he slid into the same chair that he’d sat in that morning. He didn’t really care what kind of soup Jacob was warming up for him. James ate just about anything except sushi. Yeah, that was a big no for him. But soup. Soup was good.
“Are you going to turn down soup?” Jacob asked while stalking to the fridge.
“What if I hate soup?” James asked just to be a brat.
Jacob whirled. “Who hates soup? What kind of heathen are you?”
Laughing, James grinned. He was glad that he’d made the decision to approach Jacob. It was time. He knew it in his heart. “I don’t hate soup.”
“Then you’re just feeling like a brat?” Jacob questioned. He went about pulling a bowl out of the fridge while grabbing other things.
“Maybe.” James shrugged. “Not sure what I’m feeling.”
Jacob stood in front of the stove, heating the soup. Because why would he use a microwave like a normal person? And James didn’t think the soup was from a can either.
The scent of something yummy filled the kitchen. James’s stomach growled and he rubbed his belly.
“You really didn’t eat?” Jacob asked. He walked from the stove to grab a breadbasket from the counter and brought it over to him. “Eat some bread.”
James stared at the brown wicker basket covered with a thick white towel. He slowly lifted the edge of the towel. “Is that homemade bread?”
Jacob snorted.
“You made homemade bread?” James asked again.
“And homemade potato soup,” Jacob told him. “A filling meal that should take care of that rumbling tummy.”
That sounded like such a Daddy thing to say. Which brought James to his reason for the late-night stop. “I was too nervous to eat,” he admitted.
Jacob stopped as he reached to pick up the spoon that he’d been using to stir the soup.
Instead of looking at Jacob, the bread became very interesting to James.
“James.” Jacob said his name softly.
“I want to do it,” James admitted. He picked up a piece of thickly sliced bread. “With you.”
“You want to explore age regression,” Jacob said.
“With you,” James said firmly. This was important. He could have asked Josh. There were friends of Michael’s that might be available. It wasn’t Josh that James was interested in. James wanted to explore more than just finding out if he was a little. Or middle. A sub. So many options. He only knew that he trusted Jacob to guide him.
“Okay.” Jacob finished stirring the soup and turned off the heat under the pan. “Let’s get you fed first.”
James concentrated on the bread in front of him. He pulled off the top before nibbling on the slice.
“It’s okay, you have no reason to be nervous,” Jacob said as he placed a bowl in front of James, then handed over a spoon.
“Thanks,” James whispered. Leaning forward, he sniffed the soup. It really did smell good. “Cal cooks whenever he’s on shift at the fire station. He makes homemade rolls. Your bread is better.”
Jacob chuckled as he settled back into his chair. “Thank you. I like to cook.”
James scrunched his nose. “I hate cooking.”
