The laughing wouldn’t normally have set him on edge but something about the tone made him raise his eyebrows. “Older?” He almost set his chopsticks down but instead curled his hand around it like a fist. It was sometimes easy to forget how old Ileana was. At times he thought of her as the same age, knowing they weren’t too far apart in years. At others, she was much younger, and it took him a moment to recall that she was eighteen now.
And now she was telling him her boyfriend was little older than that. The idea that he could be as old as he was didn’t sit well but he was going to remain calm. The kid was probably twenty. Maybe twenty-one. Just old enough to drink. Stefan could handle that. He thought he could handle that. “How much older?”