Free Anywhere by J. Meyers Page B

catch a glimpse of life away from the tourist traps. It’s not like I hadn’t loved everywhere I’d been—I totally had—but in some ways it didn’t seem real. I wanted more—more intimate, more authentic, more Italian. So we picked a little town neither of us had ever heard of and hopped on a bus.
    Barolo lay atop a hill, nestled between a few trees and fields upon green fields of grape vines. A visage of mostly white and tan buildings with burnt sienna roofs, it took my breath away as our bus followed the dirt road into town. Cypress trees lined the edges, standing tall and skinny, as if at attention. Lush green rolling hills surrounded it, with houses scattered amidst the patchwork fields.
    Picture perfect. I was starting to think Italy was one giant magical kingdom.
    The only hotel in town was completely booked with a wine-making group, so we were told to go to the visitor’s office to find a place to stay. The man behind the desk smiled delightedly at us and introduced himself as Alessandro. He told us he had a room and quoted a price so low that I was sure I’d misunderstood him. I was also slightly freaked that he’d said room in the singular, not plural.
    “One room?” I said.
    “ Si! Si! ” Alessandro said, nodding enthusiastically. He pointed at Asher and me. “I have just the room for you . ”
    He waved for us to follow and slipped out the door. Asher and I looked at each other for an unsure moment, but there wasn’t any time to discuss it—we practically had to run to catch up. We followed Alessandro down the cobblestone streets. The stone walls of the buildings were water-smooth and cool under my hands—I couldn’t help but touch them as I watched Asher reaching out as well. Alessandro stopped at a building on the edge of town and went inside.
    It was cool and dark. Quiet. Perfect. And my hopes rose. Up a steep staircase, Alessandro pushed open a door and I was stunned into silence. The room was absolutely gorgeous. Like a honeymoon suite—which made me so self-conscious about the thought of sharing this room with Asher that I couldn’t even look at him.
    The large bed lay in an ornate wrought iron frame, its blanket a soft cream over crisp yellow sheets. A large window opened up to a view of the countryside beyond the town—fields of grape vines spreading out for miles. The slight breeze lifted the long gauzy curtains into gentle flight.
    “Is a good room, yes? Okay?” Alessandro said, and I nodded mutely as my eyes met Asher’s.
    Did I want to share a room with Asher? My mind said Not a good idea , my body said Hell yes . I honestly didn’t know what to do and was trying to figure out whether I should try to find somewhere else to stay. Though in this little town, we were likely stuck.
    And what a way to be stuck.
    Plus I was a grown up. I could share a room with him. It didn’t have to mean anything was going to happen.
    Unless I wanted it to.
    Oh my god, I wanted it to.
    I realized Asher was waiting for me to say something, so I shrugged and said, “Do you mind sharing?”
    “Not if you don’t.”
    But he wouldn’t look at me for very long. He was looking unsure again. Or was he nervous? I couldn’t tell. Maybe he was regretting this. We followed Alessandro back to his office to pay for our room. I had no idea how we were going to do this.
    “So, food?” Asher said, and tilted his head toward the street. He didn’t seem ready for the awkwardness of our room yet either.
    “Sure,” I said, and we went in search of dinner.
    Let me just say that the food in Barolo was amazing. We found a restaurant with tables and chairs set up outside on the edge of this little piazza, with baskets of bread to dip in olive oil, alongside fresh mozzarella and pasta. Talking about nothing and everything, we both relaxed. It was such a relief.
    “Josh had really wanted to go to Sicily,” Asher said as we talked about the other places in Italy we’d like to see.
    “Why Sicily?” I