Wander and Roam (Wander #1) Read Free

envelopes aren’t limitless, after all.
     

     
    Twenty minutes later, a knock sounds at the yurt door, followed by Sage’s voice. “Can I come in?”
    “Sure.” I reach for the doorknob just as Sage peeks his head through. For a moment, we’re only a hand’s reach from one another. I step back so quickly, I nearly trip over my bag.
    He props the door open with his body and holds up a bag of food. “I brought lunch. Thought you might be hungry after your long trip.”
    “Thanks.” I glance around the yurt, but the room is too small to hold a table.
    He points in the opposite direction of the bay. “I wouldn’t mind sharing my super-secret picnic spot with you.”
    I’m so afraid of spending time with him—no, with anybody. Growing close to others only leads to pain in the long run.
    “If you’re too tired, I can take a rain check.” He starts to separate the food.
    Isolation has its downfalls, though. It led to being booted from school after I abandoned my classes. It led to my flight across the world so I could avoid the questions and concern of friends and family. Even Down Under, I’m unable to truly escape.
    “Wait.” I wave away the food. “Being outside sounds nice after all those hours on the plane.”
    Sage smiles. If he looked cute when he was serious, he’s even more adorable when he grins. “You won’t regret this,” he says.
    I already do.
    Sage backtracks down the hill then leads us along a winding path until we reach the orchards. We pass through rows of bushes, dotted with still-green blueberries and plump, pink raspberries. At the far end, a grove of trees is planted in neat, equidistant rows.
    As we step into the trees, each row hangs thick with various fruits, some familiar and others unrecognizable. I gently stroke a low-growing peach before following Sage into a grassy patch in the middle of the orchard.
    Sage sits on the grass then pats the spot next to him. “You might be in for a surprise,” he whispers.
    “Surprise?”
    “You’ll see.” He continues to speak in a quiet voice. “Susan makes a hot breakfast and dinner each day, served in the covered dining area near her home, and she packs sack lunches for me—well, I guess that’s us now.”
    “Oh?” I examine the food he hands me. A sandwich stuffed with vegetables between two thick slabs of bread, a juicy peach, and homemade-looking granola bars.
    “Susan’s been making all the meals vegetarian, on account of me, but she’d be happy to cook up some dead animal, if you prefer.”
    I bite into my sandwich. The vegetable-only concoction doesn’t taste terrible, but some thick slices of turkey would only make it better. “I prefer.”
    “Ah, you’re a carnie.” Sage sits back and watches me chew. I try to swallow my mouthful gracefully, but end up gulping awkwardly.
    “Have you always been vegetarian?” I ask.
    “What an esoteric question.” Sage leans closer. “My follow-up question would be, in what life? Currently, I’m about to meet my two-month anniversary of veganism. But I imagine some of my past selves rejected meat entirely.”
    I stare at him. His expression is one of complete and total sincerity. “Do you actually believe that nonsense?”
    Before he can answer, a deer-sized animal hops into the clearing. That’s right. Hops. Two powerful back legs send it bounding underneath one of the plum trees. “Loo—”
    Sage presses his soft, warm finger to my lips. I alternate between focusing on the brown critter nibbling at the fallen fruit in the orchard and his closeness.
    He lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “They startle easily.”
    They? I haven’t recovered from the tingle of his warm breath before I spot them. Four more animals, identical to the first, linger along the perimeter of the orchard.
    “Wallabies,” I silently mouth.
    He presses his mouth to my ear once more. “Most people would have guessed kangaroos.”
    While they resemble kangaroos, they’re too small. If I were