world, but it left her with a feeling of absolute trust in him.
She invited him inside without speaking herself. He entered, inexplicably barefoot, and shut the door behind him.
“I love you,” he said, speaking at last. The roughness of his voice touched her like a warm caress.
“I know,” she replied in the grand tradition of Han Solo.
Josh’s gaze remained fixed on her face as he moved toward her with purpose. His hands slid into her hair, tilting her head as his mouth met hers. She melted into him, squeezing her eyes shut against the glaring light that seemed to have filled the room. She felt his arms envelop her like a blanket, wrapping her in his secure embrace.
Distantly, she was aware of another knock at the door, but she refused to acknowledge it. She was too busy kissing Josh, who didn’t seem to notice it. It was probably her imagination.
She kept on kissing Josh, letting her hands wander over his chest and shoulders, then down to his stomach. His hands meanwhile had traveled down her body to the hem of her T-shirt.
The knocking grew louder, and Mia’s brain registered the fact that she was dreaming. But she didn’t want to wake up. She’d rather stay in her dream. With Josh.
The knocking continued. Whoever was at her door clearly had no intention of letting that happen.
It occurred to her that it might be Josh, come to see her in real life and not just in her dream.
Mia jolted upright. Running a hand through her hair to tame it, she staggered out of bed, staring around her for something to wear. In desperation, she dragged on a pair of discarded work slacks and a cardigan before answering the door.
“Oh, I’ve gotten you out of bed,” Birdie said.
“No, I was awake.” Mia clutched her cardigan around herself, embarrassed to have been dragged out of a sex dream about Josh by his aunt.
“You’ve got some dried drool on your face.”
“Shit,” Mia blurted, scrubbing at her cheek, then felt bad for swearing. “Sorry.”
Birdie smiled. “I thought you might like to come to my yoga class this morning.”
“You take yoga?” This was new information to Mia, who couldn’t imagine why Birdie would think she’d want to join her with no notice.
They hadn’t had a conversation about it, had they? And she’d somehow forgotten? She racked her brain but could swear Birdie had never mentioned it before.
“I teach a yoga class,” Birdie corrected. “Goat yoga. Every Saturday morning at ten.”
“Goat yoga?” Mia rubbed her eyes, convinced she must have misheard her.
Birdie nodded. “That’s right.”
“What’s goat yoga?”
“You practice yoga alongside goats.” Birdie said it as if this was a perfectly normal and rational thing to do.
“And what do the goats do?” Mia asked.
“Stand around mostly. Sometimes they jump on you. Also, they poop. A lot, unfortunately.”
“Why?” Mia was not awake enough for this conversation. The words Birdie was saying sounded nonsensical, like something your brain made up in a dream. Was it possible she was still asleep in bed and having another dream? She cast a nervous glance at her bed, but it was empty.
“All animals poop,” Birdie said. “They can’t help it.”
Mia blinked at her. “No, I mean, why practice yoga with goats?”
“Because they’re cute, I suppose. It’s one of those fads everyone suddenly wants to get in on. My classes are booked up weeks in advance, mostly with people driving down from Austin.” Birdie gave a shrug that seemed to say city folk were strange and incomprehensible, and in this case Mia had to agree. “I used to teach an afternoon yoga class at the community center, but when I heard about this goat yoga craze on NPR, I figured why not get in on it? I could offer goat yoga if people want to pay for goat yoga. And they do. Quite a lot, as it happens.”
“Gwyneth Paltrow sells a vagina-scented candle for seventy-five dollars.” It was a fact Mia regretted knowing.
“There you go,” Birdie said with a nod.
“That’s very entrepreneurial of you.”
Birdie looked pleased. “I’m leaving in thirty minutes if you want to come. As my guest, free of charge.”
“Ummmm…” Mia searched for a polite way to decline her generous offer to exercise in a barnyard while being pooped on.
“It’s at Josh’s farm,” Birdie added.
“Oh?” Mia tried to sound offhand, although her interest had definitely been piqued.
A shrewd twinkle came into Birdie’s eye. “If you wanted to see his farm, this would be your chance to do it.”
Mia was far less interested in seeing