I lean against the wall next to the empty office and try to wake my groggy brain. “I don’t understand.”
Isaiah surveys the room like he also sees the same memories I do. I bet he sees a lot more. This place was one of the first that ever felt like a home to him. He finally hitches his thumbs in his jeans and leans on the opposite wall from me. “The Plan.”
“We have one.” Five more years and counting.
“What if I wanted to change some things up?” He shrugs. “Like I move out of the shithole I live in and get a new apartment?”
I visibly sag with relief. I hate to see him living in that rat-and-drug-infested, violence ridden, poor excuse for a building. I know Isaiah grew up tough, that he can take care of himself, and that the rent there means he has been able to save a ton of money for our Plans, but I’ve been begging him for years to move.
“I would say that’s the best ‘give’ you’ve ever given me. Can you please get a place where you feel comfortable with me staying the night? Or…” I look away, feeling as insecure as I did when Isaiah and I started dating, “maybe a place where you’d be comfortable with me moving in.”
He smiles a little, not as much as I hoped he would, but it’s still there. “I was thinking we could get a place in those new apartments that they’re building down on Lockwood Ave. The rent is more than what I pay now, but we’ll be able to handle it easily together.”
Surprise washes over me. That’s a nice little area of town, a couple of miles from here. It used to be a dump, but the city has been trying to revitalize the area. But then I focus on the important word—we. We as in he wants me to move in with him. Butterflies take flight in my chest. “Those are super cute. I’d like that.”
“What if—” Isaiah starts and then has to clear his throat. “What if I wanted to make a few more changes to the Plan?”
“Like?” I say slowly.
He rubs his neck, his go-to movement when he’s stressed, then lowers his hands. “What if we don’t wait five more years until we have enough money to build a garage? What if we buy this place?”
My heart stops beating and I’m unable to breathe.
Isaiah starts towards me, his gaze roaming my face as if he’s concerned about me. “We don’t have enough to buy it outright—but we have enough to make a huge down payment and I’ve been watching my credit and I know you’ve been watching yours, too. Together, we can get a loan for the rest. I’m not going to lie, the building has a ton of problems, but it would be ours. I talked to Eli and Cyrus about it last night, and there are people in the club who are good at construction. I’ve done enough work for the club that I bet they’ll do most of the work at a discount rate.”
“Probably for free,” I say. “They’d never take a dime from you.”
And as for the loan, there’s no doubt my father would co-sign for us if we asked. He’d buy the garage for us, but he respects that Isaiah and I want to create our business on our own so instead he’s given us advice on how to invest the money we’ve saved—to make our money work for us.
“I know this isn’t the best part of town,” Isaiah continues, “but people around here know you and me. They trust us. We’d have business—plenty of it. Plus, this neighborhood needs good businesses. It needs people who care and aren’t going to rip customers off. There are good people who live around here, and in order for things to change, people who care, people like us, need to dig into the community instead of leaving. Besides, this is my—”
“Home,” I finish for him. “This place is your home.”
Isaiah’s eyes soften as he closes the gap between us and rests his hands on my waist. My heart flutters with his caress. “Anywhere you are is my home.”
“Same.”
“Rachel, talking to Eli yesterday about perfection, seeing Oz propose to Emily, receiving my father’s bike…if there’s anything I know about life it’s that it can change, fast. In good ways, in bad ways….I don’t regret the plans we’ve made and I don’t regret sticking to them like we have. And if