Page 109 of First Down

I work to keep my mouth from dropping open. The house in Cherry Hill is listed at 1.7 million, and when I heard that, I felt my heart drop like a stone into my stomach. James, meanwhile, was totally at ease as he spoke about it with Kerry. Usually, I don’t think too much about how differently we grew up, but over the past few days, I’ve felt it more keenly. How can I live in a multi-million-dollar home, all thanks to my boyfriend’s money, without feeling out of place? “How much more?”

“About 4 million.”

“Holy shit.”

He looks over, a grin on his face. “It’s really fucking nice.”

“It better be a castle.”

“There’s a rooftop patio.”

I sigh. “Don’t tempt me.”

His smile just gets wider, more self-assured. “That’s exactly what I’m doing, princess.”

Of course. I shake my head. “The light’s green.”

The townhouse is, predictably, gorgeous from the outside. The stone facade and cheerful yellow door make me smile, despite my hesitation to go inside. Kerry unlocks the door with a flourish, though, and I have no choice but to follow her into an upscale, modern entryway. “This was built in 1800, if you can believe it. But everything is completely redone, no issues at all, and gorgeous to boot.”

“1800?” I repeat. “That’s incredible.”

She gives us a smile. “It would be a wonderful investment. Philadelphia has many historical homes like this, and this is one of the nicest I’ve come across. Very lucky that it’s on the market, given the street, and at such a reasonable price point, too. Why don’t you explore on your own and let me know what you think? Make sure you check out the rooftop patio, the views are just lovely.”

She walks down the hall into what looks like a sitting room, her heels clacking loudly on the hardwood floor. James turns to me, eyes bright; I can tell that he loves it already.

“What do you think?”

I trail my fingers along the sleek banister. “Let’s check out the kitchen first.”

The kitchen is devastatingly pretty. I don’t know what I love more, the white quartz countertops paired with bold navy cabinets, the modern gold finishes, or the pristine Viking range that nearly has me salivating. Perhaps it’s the long, gorgeous island perfect for everything from hosting a party spread to baking. James doesn’t even walk around; he just leans against the doorway and watches me open the cabinets and peer in the drawers. Someone must have tried to make this floor feel more open concept, because the kitchen opens to a beautiful dining room, and beyond that, a cozy living room with a gas fireplace.

We move through the rest of the rooms slowly. There’s a room with plenty of light that James mentions could work for my photography studio, and I do see possibilities in the white walls and big windows overlooking the houses across the street. Guest bedrooms, in case my mother or any of his family comes to visit. An owner’s suite that fortunately is beautiful and not crammed full of hideous furniture, plus a bathroom with the biggest tub I’ve ever seen; even James, as broad-shouldered as he is, would be able to sit in it with me.

By the time we reach the rooftop patio, my heart is beating faster. There’s history in this house, and room for a future, too. Maybe not a forever future, because having a yard would be nice, but for now? I could see us here, making it our own. The walls are ready for new art. The kitchen, clearly brand-new, needs someone to cook in it. The owner’s suite could be a beautiful sanctuary, a place to block out the rest of the world. Every inch of it has charm and character, thanks to its history. I like the idea of not being the first ones to live here.

The stager knew what they were doing for the outdoor patio. Strategically placed plants make it feel private, almost like a garden, rather than a roof. The view shows off the city, streets of old houses like this and newer, taller buildings several blocks down. I peer over the railing at the street below and see someone walking a pair of dogs. Right now, in late June, this is lovely, but I’m thinking of fall evenings as well. A little fire pit and blankets to keep us warm, music playing softly in the background.

“Bex,” James says, tugging me into his arms. His chest is solid and warm. I melt into him, despite the heat, and tilt my chin up to look at him.

“Hey.”

“Houses like these are hard to come by.”

“It’s perfect.” I turn in his arms so I’m meeting his gaze. “You should buy it.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to live in it alone.”

“I looked at more apartments,” I say. “I could get something nice. I’m not sure how close it would be to this neighborhood, but it wouldn’t be too far.”

“But you don’t need to.”

“I know. But I can’t just be this... freeloader in your house. Not contributing anything.”

“You’re going to get a job, but money isn’t the only way to contribute.”

I pull away, giving us a couple feet of distance. “But it’s important that I do. Maybe if we were married already, it would be different, but we’re not there yet. I’ll feel weird living someplace I could never afford to be in without you.”

“But that’s the whole point. You’re not without me.”

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