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Nora beams as if she’s just imparted ancient wisdom instead of casually recounting a brush with psychedelic doom. One of the goats lets out a bleat and sprints in a tiny, pointless circle behind her, adding to the surreal energy of this entire situation.

Theo stretches beside me like this is completely normal. He’s either trying really hard not to laugh or he’s fully entered some altered state of his own. I can’t tell.

“I swear,” Nora says, sinking into a cross-legged position and shooing a goat off her mat, “people think I’m flighty, but I’m actually very grounded.”

“By goats,” I murmur.

“Exactly,” she says again, utterly sincere. “And crystals. And kombucha. And sometimes tequila, but only if it’s organic.”

I shoot Theo a look. He gives me a look back that says are you getting all of this?

A smaller goat sniffs his knee, its little nose twitching, assessing whether he’s made of food or just tolerable enough to chomp on anyway. Theo pats the top of its head. He’s a statue of unearned composure, like none of this is remotely strange to him. Like being surrounded by yoga mats and farm animals is just another day of the week.

And honestly? It’s kind of unfair. The man looks entirely at home, perfectly content to commune with nature and novelty like it doesn’t weird him out at all, grumpy as he normally is.

I, on the other hand, feel like I’ve been dropped into some bizarre dreamscape.

“Okay, okay!” Nora claps her hands together with terrifying enthusiasm. “Let’s crank the intimacy up a notch, shall we? Next pose: partner tree… followed by partner gratitude… followed by”—her face is lit with excitement—“the connection kiss.”

I straighten. “The what now?”

Nora waves it off, so unbothered. “Just a sweet little smooch to lock in all that bonding energy. Builds trust, deepens your root chakra. Don’t worry, it’s adorable.”

I risk a sideways glance at Theo, waiting for his reaction before I commit to my own.

His expression is blank at first, except for that twitch at the corner of his mouth. The twitch that usually means he’s about to say something either incredibly sarcastic or incredibly unhelpful.

Instead, he levels me with an amused look. “You gonna leave me hanging in front of the goats?”

Great. My insides pick now to act up.

“Fine,” I try to arrange myself into something that vaguely resembles tree pose when Theo steps in beside me to turn it into a partner situation. He’s so tall my hand lands somewhere around his elbow.

I’m sweating and it has nothing to do with the weather, because it’s not exactly hot outside.

“And where is the gratitude?” Nora sing-songs.

I stretch just enough to make it look like I’m really into participating, and tilt my face toward Theo’s, giving him my best attempt at enthusiasm. “I’m grateful you haven’t made a single joke about downward dog,” I say through my teeth.

Theo’s own smile eases across his face. “I’m grateful you didn’t sucker punch me when I said this would be relaxing.”

I snort. “I considered it. I’m still considering it.”

His smile unfurls into something so unlike him. It’s arrogant and ridiculously attractive.

His fingers press lightly against mine where our hands meet in the middle and it’s an unmistakable reminder that being this close to him never feels casual.

A pleasant reminder surfaces: oh right, we’re supposed to kiss now.

My stomach performs a full gymnastics routine.

This is fine. It’s fine.

I’ve kissed plenty of other humans before. I’ve kissed him before. And I survived all instances of those things happening.

Sure, Theo sometimes leaves my nervous system in shambles and triggers inconvenient identity crises, but I have never died from it. So, really, what’s one fake kiss for the sake of the investigation? It’s not like I’m going to feel anything.

Probably.