I sighed, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Rodion, people get sick. It wasn’t worth bothering you. If it were serious, I would have told you.”
“People, yes,” he said. “But you’re my girl. That’s the difference.”
This man was impossible. Carina was right, Rodion could make possessiveness sound like poetry.
“Fine,” I muttered, stabbing at my food. “Jesus.”
He watched me with that unshaken patience. I took another bite, swallowed, and added quietly, “I’m fine.”
Rodion resumed cutting his steak. “You didn’t check if you were pregnant?”
I blinked at him. “You think I am?”
He gave a faint, knowing shrug. “I wouldn’t mind.”
I scoffed, a laugh slipping out. “Too bad. I’m on my period, so no.”
That earned me a small smile. “Do you love kids?”
After finishing my bite, I answered, “I don’t mind them. But definitely not now.”
“I see,” he murmured.
“What about you?”
He stayed silent for a few seconds before replying. “I want a mini you. She would probably be as stubborn as her mother.”
I laughed. “You want a girl?”
“Five girls,” he said, his eyes glinting. “And five boys.”
I nearly choked on my wine. “Ten kids? Are you planning a small army or a family?”
He chuckled, the sound melting through the quiet restaurant. “Maybe both.”
He reached out and brushed something from the corner of my lips before he drew his thumb to his mouth and licked it. “I want chaos. Think about it—”
“No. Nope. Not a chance. Two or three, that’s enough.”
“Hm.” He nodded, pretending to consider it. “Okay, let’s say three.” He leaned back in his chair. “Do you want a boy?”
“Don’t you?” I teased.
His jaw tightened. “Men in my family are assholes.”
“So you think our son would turn out like you guys?”
“It’s in the blood,” he said without a trace of humor in his tone.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I also want a mini you. Conversation closed.”
I let my eyes drift to the window. The city lights flickered against the glass like distant stars. This was precisely how I pictured a date with him. Just us being real.
When I looked back, Rodion was still watching me with that look that stripped everything else away. If love ever had a face, this was what it looked like.
“What?” I asked, smiling.
He didn’t answer right away. He just held my gaze before finally speaking. “If we get a son, he’ll be like me.”