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“Why?”

Her hand slid underneath my shirt, then lower.

I caught her wrist.

“I’m tired.”

She stopped.

Slowly lifted her head.

The look she gave me would’ve been funny if I didn’t already know an argument was coming behind it.

“You tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Xavier, it’s ten-thirty in the morning.”

“So? I was up early.”

“You ain’t work today.”

“I work every other fucking day.”

“And?”

“And my body know that.”

She stared at me.

I stared back.

“You are always fucking tired.”

“Here we go.”

“No, seriously. Every time I try to have sex with you, you tired.”

“That ain’t true.”

“When the last time you initiated sex with me?”

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out fast enough.

“Exactly.”

“Sam—”

“No. Don’t Sam me. We thirty-something years old acting like we’ve been married forty years.”

I laughed. “You dramatic as hell.”

“I’m not being dramatic. I’m horny.”

That made me laugh harder.