“It’s okay to get upset.” I kiss his temple. “But you said I obviously don’t love you.”
“Mhm,” he mumbles, squirming.
“Please don’t use my love for you as a weapon in an argument.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.”
We start putting the cards away.
“Antonio, I love playing Uno with you, but I’m not going to lose on purpose. So you need to decide if you can handle Draw Fours.”
“I can handle them,” he says hotly. He blows a curl off his face.
“You know I’ll always help you if it gets too much. But I also don’t want to have an argument every time you lose.”
“I get it.”
He puts down the cards he was re-stacking. His eyes flick toward me, and I know what he wants.
“Can we go upstairs?” His fingers curl in my shirt.
“Can I—” He hesitates. “Be on the pillow?”
“Yes, baby, you can.”
His shoulders drop. Some of the tension is already leaving him.
“I want other stuff too. But that first.”
“Other stuff?” I repeat, my lips twitching.
He blushes. “You know what I mean.”
“Tell me anyway.”
He glares at me.
“Is spoken language sufficient, or should I perform a waggle dance?”
“I don’t know what a waggle dance is, but I’m not opposed to it.”
He huffs.
“It’s how bees tell the other bees where the good nectar is.”
“The good nectar? Is that what my good boy is after?” I tease him.
He groans, but he’s laughing too.
“Stop it.”
“I don’t want to. Come on, baby. Let’s go upstairs so you can get the good nectar.”
“Madonna, Caspian.”
ANTONIO
