Jo’s features relax and she sinks a little deeper into the pillows. “Frankly, I don’t even know where we would find the time.”

“To have a conversation?” I envelop her hand in mine.

“To find other people to sleep with. I barely have time to spend with you.” She locks her gaze on mine.

Even though Jo has moved in with me, she’s very adamant about her financial independence, so I have to tread carefully. “How many colds have you had this winter? It seems you’ve barely healed from one when another’s already waiting in the wings. Maybe your body is trying to tell you something.”

“I’m not even thirty. I can take it.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to listen to the cues your body is trying to give you a little more. It’s not normal to suffer from so many colds. This is not the first gig you’ve had to cancel. Maybe it’s time for something else to give?”

Jo pushes herself up a little. “How did this turn into a conversation about my health? I thought we were talking about something else entirely?”

“Being under thirty doesn’t make you superhuman. You need to take care of yourself. You were already stretched too thinly when we met, between working at the Pink Bean, working on your PhD and being Sheryl’s Teaching Assistant.”

“Which is why I’m no longer Sheryl’s T.A.”

“I can tell you’re not in the mood to talk about this, but—”

“You just need to tell me one more time.” Jo’s lips draw into a soft smile. “Maybe it’s time to stop working at the Pink Bean.”

“You can’t keep on doing all the things you’ve been doing.”

“So I can have more time to sleep with other people.” She tilts her head.

I shake mine in response. “You’re being deliberately contrary.”

She clasps a hand to her chest. “Who? Me?”

“Yes, you.” I sneak my hand along her belly. “If you weren’t sick, I’d punish you.”

“Oh really? How would you do that?” She puts her hand over mine.

“I have my ways, but if you want to find out, you need to get better first.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Jo leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. “I just hate not being able to sing.” She lets herself drop against the pillows again.

“Don’t I know it.” I give her a smile.

“If only you could hold a tune, I could send you as my replacement.” She chuckles.

“What are you insinuating?”

“Same as always.” She puts her head on my shoulder. “You’re a woman of many talents, but singing’s not one of them.”

“My voice is just more of an acquired taste, that’s all.”

“No, honey.” Her chin bumps against my shoulder as she shakes her head. “It’s really not.”