Chanel

 

After leaving Sol Restaurant, we had talked so much and so long that it took me a while to realize that we made the whole trip to Oakland with nothing but conversation between us two. There was no music or anything needed to create a buffer. It was just us. As we made the drive, I even found that I was paying detailed attention to the beauty of the Bay Area’s lights; that was something I rarely got to do, since I was always the one in the driver’s seat doing all the things that made my days seem longer than the seasons.

I had enjoyed myself more than I thought I would and despite Dario being someone that I said I’d never date again, I was game for our next date. Aside from what he did for a living, I liked his personality, and prided myself on judging people based on that.

“I guess you can tell that I’m not in a real hurry to get you back home, huh?” Dario asked me, breaking my trance as I stared out the front window of his Range Rover. We parked in a spot that sat high up in the Oakland Hills, above Lake Temescal. The view was intoxicating. We were up so high that it looked like we could reach out and touch the stars in the sky. If I had a pair of binoculars, I might have even been able to see my house from where we sat, since it was somewhere in the cluster of homes that sat on the lower level.

“I kinda figured,” I responded bashfully.

The truth of the matter was that I wasn’t ready for him to take me home yet. I hadn’t been on a real date in over a year and it was refreshing. What started as me agreeing to go to show gratitude, had actually turned into an enjoyable time. Dario was really nice, down to earth, and really easy to talk to. He was all the things I expected him not to be.

“You object in any way?” he asked.

I turned my attention away from the stunning city view to look over at him. “Not at all. You’re good company,” I admitted without missing a beat. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“What made you want to beat up people?”

Dario’s eyes grew a bit before he dove into a hearty guffaw. “It’s never been put to me quite like that before! You’re funny.”

“Well, that’s what it is, Mr. Undefeated.”

I watched in curiosity as Dario turned his glance away from me, and to the view outside. His mood appeared to simmer from what it was seconds earlier. It was almost somber-like. It hit me at that moment that I had seen something inside of Dario’s eyes when we first met. Sadness lived there. Why, I didn’t know, but his sudden sink into quietness when I asked that question confirmed my suspicions. As I waited patiently for him to respond, I couldn’t help but notice that he had an almost boyish look to him. He had a particular innocence to his face when there wasn’t a smile present. But as my eyes traveled down to his neck and his shoulders, a boy was far from what I was met with. He was for sure a stunning sight dipped in the best vanilla sauce.

“I needed to release frustration,” Dario responded after a lengthy pause. “And boxing was there to give me the outlet that I needed.”

“Frustration?”

“Yeah.”

“From what?” I asked curiously.

“I was a very angry teenager.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you said that you had a good life growing up.”

“I did. But later . . . things got a bit dark.”

Dario pressed a few buttons on his steering wheel and the lights from the stereo lit up the panel into beautiful blues and turquoises, and then began to pour out music from Sirius XM.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No. It’s cool,” he said, turning back to face me. “My cousin . . . he . . . yeah, he . . . uhhh . . . he died in my arms when we were teenagers. He . . . was shot.”

“Shot?! Oh my God!” I gasped loudly, before I even knew my reaction had hit the air. Tears stung the back of my eyes, and I choked up as my hand flew to my mouth in shock. “I’m so, so, sooo sorry, Dario. Oh my God.” With my free hand I reached over to grab onto his forearm. “Dario, please forgive me.”

“It’s okay, Chanel. You didn’t know. When you asked me why I wanted to beat up people, you were closer than you know. It’s not why I signed on, initially. I signed on to release the hurt and pain and redirect my energy. But once I did get all the way into the game—especially in my early years in the ring—things were brutal. Each time I fought, I saw the face of the person that took my cousin from me. I had the chance to punish him over and over again. Early on, I almost got disqualified a few times because I’d have these moments where I’d black out and go for death. It was more like street-fighting than professional boxing.”

Dario blew out a huff of air, and leaned his head back into the headrest. It was as though he’d never spoken those words and was relieved that they had finally emerged into life.

“That’s understandable, Dario. I get it. That had to be . . . I don’t even know the words to say.”

He turned to me and smiled. “It was a long time ago and I’ve gotten to avenge my cousin’s death a hundred times. So, I’m good.”

“Okay,” I said to him. But I wasn’t sure that I believed he was good. I had seen the sadness in his eyes before I knew what the source was. Something in me wanted to hug him until he told me to let go. I wanted to come to his rescue like he had come to mine. My heart and my soul went out to him and I felt responsible for the tension that was now lingering in the air. “So, what made you choose Sol for our date?” I asked, making an effort to lead us back to a healthy place. The last thing I wanted was for him to blame me for any foul mood at the end of the date. “I mean, what made you decide on Puerto Rican cuisine?”

As silence loomed over us, and Dario’s eyes bore into me, my intuition alerted me to what was next. My body warmed, small flutters went stir crazy, my heart raced. I knew. That knowing brought a jumble of nerves with it. Right when my nerves kicked in, and I was about to repeat the question, Dario’s hand was on the back of my neck and pulling me toward him. It was too late to object to his lips, to his kiss. My eyes closed with ease to receive him. I hadn’t even realized that I wanted him to kiss me until the softness of his tongue touched my own and began a slow, seductive drag inside my mouth seeking, searching. My hands found the sides of his face and I joined him in a kiss that was so sensual it made me want him. There was something in his kiss; I had never longed for a man off of that alone. Yet, this intimate exchange between Dario and me . . . on this hill, brought about a sense of urgency that I couldn’t explain, but that I wanted to explore further.

Maybe athletes were my thing, after all . . .