Chapter 5

Jakob

There was one thing on my list I hadn’t shared with Reed.

I wanted a romance.

It was a vague idea until I met Reed.

And then, suddenly, it wasn’t abstract at all.

It was all very real and perfectly focused on the man who’d taken the time to be kind to me after I ran into his truck.

He didn’t have to come to see me at the hospital, so that meant something.

I knew next to nothing about people, but I knew that no one was that nice.

When he jumped in with that roommate comment, I knew my instincts had to be on the right track.

He was interested.

Maybe. If I had any experience, it would be easier, but I’d never even kissed a guy.

Did last night’s movie night qualify as a date? I wished I had someone to ask, but I literally had no one, like, no one to ask.

My parents had ensured I was isolated so I wouldn’t be distracted from my studies.

It was now up to me to figure it out.

I grabbed my phone and powered it back on to dictate a pro-con list.

Text messages could be ignored because they’d only be more of the same and a potential distraction.

All right, for the pro list: he sat near me during the movie.

He could have chosen to sit in any of the other chairs, but he chose the couch with me and not even as far away from me as possible.

He’d been correct about how amazing the movie was, but I’d been tired.

At one point, my eyes drooped, and he grabbed a throw pillow, placed it against his thigh, and invited me to lie down.

On the con list: once I was settled, his hand didn’t touch me once.

Instead, his arm remained on the back of the couch the entire time.

It was a disappointment.

However, he called me love a few times, which was clearly going in the pro column. He apologized for it, though, so that was a con entry.

The second issue was Reed’s Papa likelihood.

On a probability scale, I’d put the odds of him being a Papa at about seventy-five percent.

I mean, the man had a sippy cup without children and hadn’t mentioned toddler relatives who might drop by.

It was a strong clue but not enough to fully confirm it.

Being a Papa would be firmly in the pro column, but without confirmation, it had to stay in the middle.

When the movie ended, Reed had asked if I wanted to get a tree to replace the one that got messed up.

That felt promising, but I wasn’t ready to decide which side of the list to place it on.

But none of it would matter if I didn’t get a move on.

I pushed down the covers, jumped into the shower, and was washed and dry within ten minutes.

That gave me more time to agonize over my clothing options.

The first night in my temporary hotel home, I ordered some cute outfits my parents would have freaked out about, so I did have some choices.

After much back and forth, I settled on a pair of black joggers and an ugly Christmas sweatshirt that wasn’t ugly at all.

The elves drinking hot chocolate in the workshop image was adorable.

The real question was whether to wear the training pants I’d also ordered.

I kinda sort of loved how they hugged my junk and made my mind immediately drift to little space.

What I really wanted to try was diapers, but I hadn’t worked up my nerve yet.

Before my mind drifted too far, I forced myself to decide. Yes, training pants were happening today.

Outfit complete, I let myself out of my bedroom. If anyone caught me, my excuse to have lingered outside Reed’s room was to tie my shoes and definitely, absolutely not because I wanted to see his bedroom.

Unlike my space, his bore no resemblance to a disaster zone. His blue ombre comforter was pulled up properly and no piles of clothes covered his dresser or the sitting area that overlooked the backyard and the Sound beyond it. With my hand, it was hard to get a tight pull on the laces, but I did my best.

Reed was already downstairs and working in the kitchen.

From the looks of it, we were having pancakes with chopped fruit this morning.

I was beginning to think he ate significantly more fruits and veggies than I did.

Kinda boo.

His back was to me, and I could admire him without having to keep my sneaky looks hidden.

His body was beautiful.

He wasn’t a gym bunny, but he was trim with a mostly flat tummy.

His butt was delicious in the jeans he wore.

His long-sleeved T-shirt was stretched tight across his shoulders, and the urge to wrap my arms around him was strong. Sadly, we weren’t there yet.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Shit. He caught me.

“Caught you doing what?”

“I said that out loud?”

“You did, and you haven’t answered the question.”

Reed smirked. “Good boys answer questions when they’re asked.”

Reed kept looking at me as he waited for me to answer. How he expected me to answer when all the blood in my body had pooled in one very specific spot that was not my brain was beyond me. The mischievous twinkle in his eye nudged the odds of Reed’s Papa-hood a little higher.

“I was, umm, wondering, umm, well thinking, uhh…”

Words failed me, and my voice just trailed off. If there was an answer that didn’t make me look like a creeper, it wasn’t coming to mind.

“Jakob, I’d very much like to know.”

Reed’s voice gentled and went soft.

“I thought you looked nice in your outfit.”

I felt my cheeks heat and knew they were bright red. If I could’ve been swallowed by a sinkhole right in this kitchen, it wouldn’t have been a tragedy.

“Thank you. I think you look nice too.”

We stood there grinning at each other until Reed finally cleared his throat and beckoned me over, unwrapped my fingers, moved them around a bit, and then wrapped my hand again.

“Do you want any help?”

I didn’t actually know anything about cooking but not offering felt rude.

“If you want to set the table, that would be great,”

he said with a nod at the cupboards farthest from the stove. “Plates are up there and silverware is in the drawer below.”

When I opened the cabinet to get down the plates, I was surprised to find a few plastic divided ones sitting on top of the ceramic dishware we’d used last night. The top one had a sailor theme, and the other had pink unicorns. I pulled them both out and stared at them. I didn’t notice Reed had come to stand next to me until I felt the welcome warmth of his hand on my shoulder.

“Jakob, do you want to use the little plate?”

“That’s for kids, and it would be silly.”

I tried hard to keep the longing in my voice hidden because I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more than to use the unicorn plate. It was pretty and was divided so my food wouldn’t touch and get messy.

“I think it’s okay to like kid things if they make us happy and don’t hurt anyone.”

Reed laid his hand across mine and gave me a soft squeeze. “I think you should use it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure, and if you look in the drawer, you’ll find some other cute stuff.”

At his prompting, I opened the silverware drawer and found matching utensils to the plate, except they were adult-sized.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

With permission granted, I chose the unicorn plate and silverware. When I asked Reed if he wanted a cute plate too, he declined and said he’d rather have a big one.

“Do you need a glass, Reed?”

“I’ll just keep you using my coffee cup. Do you drink coffee?”

“Blech, no. I’ve never liked it unless it’s half milk, half a cup of sugar, and you can’t taste the coffee.”

“Ha. Well, let’s skip it then. How about some chocolate milk instead?”

“Chocolate milk? I can have chocolate milk?”

“Of course you can, love. I’ll mix it up for you.”

Reed got the powder from the pantry and the jug of milk from the fridge. He went to the cabinet next to the plates and opened it. There were mugs and regular glasses, along with a clean sippy cup. “You want the sippy cup?”

I wanted that sippy cup so badly, but I was almost afraid to want it too much. The tracks I’d laid only led to being a little, and I knew myself enough to know that wasn’t something I wanted to change. Even without any experience, I knew I was a little as much as I was gay, and I knew that without ever having kissed a guy. “Are you sure you don’t mind? Like a negative twenty-seven on the scale of not minding?”

“Negative one hundred,”

Reed answered with that matter-of-fact tone I’d come to recognize from him.

“Are you a Papa?”

Shit. I hadn’t meant to ask it yet, but the words flew out of my mouth before I could control them. It was a theme this morning.

“If you mean a Daddy, yes, I am. Are you a little?”

There was that even-keeled tone I’d already come to expect from Reed.

“Yeah.”

Reed only nodded and returned to mixing chocolate milk for me.

“Then sippy cups and divided plates are a must.”

He handed me the cup with a soft smile, and I accepted it with a matching one. “Can you finish with the table? Breakfast is almost ready. If anything is too bulky or heavy to do one-handed, leave it for me.”

I jumped to it and put everything on the table. It seemed okay to put our spots next to each other, and I remembered to put the syrup and the butter on the table. Reed carried in a plate of pancakes and a bowl of cinnamon-spiced apples. It was all very domestic and maybe not traditionally romantic, but it felt that way to me. Our winter’s low gray clouds and drizzle made the kitchen intimate and private. All homey and warm.

“Are you up for getting a new Christmas tree today?”

Reed asked while he put pancakes on my plate, slathered them with butter, and cut them up. He did it automatically, and it felt natural, like it was supposed to be that way. It was the clearest sign that Reed truly did think of himself as a Papa and me as a little, but that didn’t automatically translate to romance, and I wanted all of it.

“Yes, please. I went to a lot with a bunch of different sizes to pick from.”

“Actually, I was thinking of possibly doing something a little different. About two hours out of town is a little tree farm with a reindeer petting zoo attached. We could cut down a tree and feed the reindeer. How does that sound?”

“Yay, yay, yay, yay!”

I couldn’t control myself and jumped out of my chair and did a butt-shaking happy dance, complete with spins. Instead of admonishing me or telling me to knock it off, Reed only laughed at my antics and smiled in his indulgent manner. “Picking our tree from the ground and feeding reindeer sounds so…so…Christmas-y.”

“It’s right outside Tannenberg, so we could get some lunch after we find the tree. I pulled out the ornaments my mom donated to me for my first Christmas in this house, but I’m sure we can find some more to add to it. But, if you’re not up for it, we shouldn’t do it.”

“No, no, no. I’m one hundred and thirty-two percent up for it. My hand still hurts, so maybe I won’t be much help chopping down a tree. I don’t think I would have been much help, even with a good hand. I’ll take something for it and be fine. My body’s not sore, and some walking around will be good for me.”

Reed gave me a skeptical look. “I promise. Cross my heart.”

I crossed it for him so he knew I meant it.

“Okay, but if it gets too much, then you’ve got to promise me you’ll say something. There’s no point in pushing yourself harder than necessary.”

“Promise.”

Reed accepted my answer with a nod and returned to his task of preparing my plate. He added apples to one empty section and syrup to the other. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love.”