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Dangerous Bonds by Shani Greene-Dowdell (6)

Chapter Eight

Channing

Could the week go any slower?

Friday seemed like it took a lifetime to get there. Throughout the week, I attempted to gain knowledge of what we were going to be having for the amazing dinner, but Kemara kept saying the same thing. It’s going to be something delicious.

I was anxious and excited to get there. We talked periodically over the phone, mainly about how she had a tight deadline to hit the filing of insurance claims or how her boss was being a dick, because he expected the work to be done of hundred employees, when they barely had enough staffing to cover a quarter of that. Or, I would talk about a construction site I had to work on that day. It just seemed like we had been friends for years.

We would talk into the night some nights. I would have to run her off to bed, knowing full well that she had to get up early for work or I had a construction job that required me to be there at the butt crack of dawn. On those occasions, the last thing I wanted to do was get off the phone. A few times our conversation would stray, leading us into a point where we could have easily got lost in some sex chat. I certainly wouldn’t have minded that, but I wanted her to see me as someone different from how her sister saw me. I had a lot to prove to not only Kemara, her sister, and maybe even her whole family, I had to prove it to myself. This wasn’t about getting some black pussy. This was about getting to know the woman of my dreams.

During lunchtime, I would usually sneak in a text to her, just to check up and see how her day was going, or she would text me first thing in the morning to make sure I had awakened with the alarm clock. Her phone calls and messages were the only things to keep me sane as I waited for our date to arrive.

When it did, I made sure to leave work right on time, so I could run home, shower, and get dressed. I went with something casual, but not of my usual casual attire. I wore a red shirt with black horizontal stripes and a nice pair of jeans, ones that didn’t have any stains or holes and a clean pair of tennis shoes.

I dashed on some cologne, went to the kitchen and grabbed the wine bottle from the refrigerator, then hurried out of the house with my keys in hand. Once I got in the truck, I grabbed my phone and shot her a message.

Me: Need me to bring anything?

I waited for a response, before starting the truck, just in case she needed something from the store to finish up the meal. The response quickly came.

Kemara: Just your smiling, sexy self and your appetite. I have everything under control. ;)

I smiled at her message, before sending her another.

Me: On my way! :) Can’t wait to see your beautiful smile.

I started the truck and backed out of my driveway. With an hour still to drive, I turned on the radio and started singing along to the Garth Brooks’ song playing. With nothing but the open road in front of me, I hurried towards her place.

The familiar surroundings of her town pulled me in, as I arrived at her apartment building. I looked in the rearview mirror, checking myself out just to make sure I didn’t have anything sticking in my teeth, then turned off the truck.

I grabbed the bottle of wine from the passenger seat and went up to her apartment building. The whole week I thought about the moment that we would see each other. I had thoughts of how the night would end, mainly with me in her bed. I fantasized about the minute she would open the door and I would take her into my arms, kissing her immediately, with the amount of passion and excitement I had for her.

Yet, when she opened the door, nothing could truly prepare me for the moment I would see her again. I felt like we hadn’t seen each other in months, not a week. I smiled. She smiled and I casually moved my eyes up and down her outfit. She was casual but in a feminine way. She had on a jean skirt and black top, with a shawl that hung on her shoulders. The outfit clung to her curves, like it was helping her to breathe. I took in the scent of garlic and apple blossoms. The apple blossom scent was what covered her body.

“Hello,” she said. She had a radiant smile that only added to the mixture of what greeted me.

“Hello!” I leaned in and brushed a soft kiss on her lips, and she reciprocated, sighing and nearly falling into me. When I pulled back, I shook my head, giving her the once over once more. “You look amazing.”

She blushed. “So do you!”

I had nearly forgotten about the bottle of wine in my hands, so I held it out to her. “Hope you like this kind,” I said.

She grabbed it from my grasp and looked it over. Her face lit up. “It’s perfect. I hope you like Italian,” she said.

She turned around and I followed her to the kitchen. It smelled absolutely amazing, almost as good as she did. Almost! “Italian is one of my favorites,” I said.

She put the wine bottle on the counter and turned to me. Her smile never faded. “I have been waiting impatiently all week for tonight.”

I laughed, feeling a refreshing feeling that I wasn’t alone. “I’m sure you weren’t nearly as impatient as I was,” I confessed.

She tilted her head. “I don’t know about that. Patience isn’t a strong suit of mine.”

She giggled, and I was drowned by her beauty. It was just one more new thing to learn about her. I was confident there was much more to come. I couldn’t wait to learn it all.

***

Dinner was exceptional, and it wasn’t just the food. It was the company. Throughout the meal, Kemara and I had candid conversation about everything and it just felt right. We drank wine at the dinner table. When we were through with the meal, I stood up and offered to help her with the dishes.

She laughed. “Men don’t do dishes, right?” she asked. “Thought you were old fashioned?” she asked.

I chuckled, carrying two plates to the sink. “Well, I guess I can change for one night. Really…I would like to help out,” I said.

She smiled. “Very sweet of you, but the dishes can wait,” she said. She filled our glasses with another dose of wine, then motioned with her head for me to follow her. We went into the living room. She handed me my glass and we sat down on the couch. She sat down with her leg bent up underneath her bottom. The position didn’t look all that comfortable, but it proved her flexibility.

I took a drink from my glass, then put it down on the coaster in front of me. “May I ask you a question?” I asked her.

She grinned. “I’m an open book. Ask away,” she said.

I didn’t know how to approach the subject. I knew what would follow once I asked her, but I was curious of the answer. “Have you ever been in a similar situation like this?” I asked.

She frowned. “Similar situation?”

She was a smart woman, but I could understand her confusion. The words didn’t come out quite as I intended. “Ever date a white man before?” I finally asked.

She arched an eyebrow, then chuckled. “Hmmmm…we’re at the point where we talk about past relationships?” she asked.

I feared I had crossed the line and thought about striking it out of the conversation, when she continued.

“I like it.” She laughed as she took a drink from her glass.

I leaned back against the couch and waited for her to get to the answer.

She finally shook her head. “Never dated a white man before, but it’s not like I didn’t consider it. The opportunity just never presented itself.” She moved in closer to me. Her wine glass was still in her hand and I watched her every move. Here it was. The question I figured she would follow up with. “How about you?” she asked.

I quickly shook my head. “No. I can honestly say I’ve never dated a white man before.”

That brought us both to laughter and her whole face shone. “You know what I mean,” she said, lifting her glass to her lips and taking a slow drink.

I knew exactly what she meant, but it was fun to tease her a bit. “Ahhhh…you want to know if I ever dated a black woman before?”

She shrugged. “Well, since we’re on the subject, and you did bring it up to the surface of the conversation, I just thought I’d ask.”

There was so much I wanted to tell her…needed to tell her, but now didn’t seem like the right time. It would cause everything to be off. I didn’t want to shift the mood, so I held back. Now that she did the follow-up question, I wondered if she would see right through me. “I haven’t. You are my first.” I picked up my drink and took a swig to try to calm my nerves.

She nodded, considering the response I gave her. “Ever consider it?” she asked and then restated the question. “Did the opportunity ever present itself?”

I could lie or tell the truth. There was a fine line between both scenarios. I shook my head. “The answer would be no to both those questions,” I admitted. “I never considered and the opportunity never presented itself.”

She nodded. “Okay…wow. That was honest,” she said.

There was so much confusion in her eyes and immediately I saw that she was starting to think. Why? Why didn’t he consider it? I reached out and touched her arm. “It’s only because I strive for the very best and now…I’ve met her.”

For a moment, she looked to be upset about my original responses to her questions. Then, she smiled and it took every ounce of willpower not to reach over, caress her face, kiss her, and hope that we could progress to the next level. I had to be patient when it came to her, especially knowing how her sister felt about us as a couple.

“That was a very good answer, Channing,” she said.

I squeezed her hand and she looked down at it, as if she had the same thoughts in her mind that I had in mine. Yet, I had so many reservations that caused me not to push things too far. The thought of her sister did have me wondering how the rest of her family would feel too.

“So, I have another question,” I said, still holding onto her hand. “It’s along the same lines. Now that I know you have never dated a white guy, it makes me wonder how your family would feel about us dating.” I paused, before adding, “I already know how your sister feels, so would your parents feel the same?” It was an awkward question to ask, but one that I couldn’t get past.

She was quiet. She took several sips of her wine and then put her glass down on a coaster, before looking at me. “It’s like this,” she started, “should you and I get to the point where we would want to meet the others parents, then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” It wasn’t a solid answer, but I think I understood what she was saying. Then she continued. “My parents have strong values, I wouldn’t lie and say that they don’t, but they also want me to be happy. I believe that if they see that I’m happy, then they’ll be fine with it.”

“But what about your sister?” I quietly asked. I needed to hear the answer to the question, because family was important to her. The love for her sister was a strong bond I wouldn’t dare try to break.

She snickered. “Well, Tameka certainly has her own problems with relationships, so she doesn’t exactly get to tell me how to run my life, does she?”

I laughed softly. It was a good answer, but we needed to be logical in our thinking when it came to how she would react, whether she had a say or not. When she asked me the next question, I wasn’t prepared to swallow the same pill.

“I’ll put out the same question to you,” she said. “How would your parents react knowing that you were dating someone of my color?” she asked.

The room got still. It was painfully quiet, and I could feel the beads of sweat wanting to trickle down my forehead. My palms were sweaty, and I was scared to death to respond to the question, cursing myself for even bringing it up in the first place.

She had to sense the hesitation. She pulled her hand away and reached her thumb up to my chin and turned my face, so that I was forced to look at her. “Channing?” she asked. “How would your parents like knowing that you are dating someone of my ethnicity?”

I heaved a sigh and continued. “My parents will love you,” I started, but then paused briefly.

“But?” she asked.

I smiled softly. “My parents will love you if they get to know you,” I stated.

She tilted her head, surveying my facial expression. “And you’re sure about that?” she asked. “You’re saying one thing, but looking a little unsure of what you’re saying.”

I quickly shook my head. “No! It’s true. The minute my mom, dad and brother meet you, they will love you. I’m sure of that.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but didn’t press on.

I knew in my heart that if my parents, my father especially, could find it in his heart to just want what was right for me, he would love Kemara. Until then, it would be a struggle, no doubt. I couldn’t tell that part to her. I didn’t want to worry her and dash her hopes of meeting my parents and getting two people that would greet her with open arms.

After we both got that out there, we stopped the serious conversations to more of when you were a kid, what did you want to be growing up.

“A Barbie doll,” Kemara said.

I frowned, then laughed, at that answer. “A Barbie doll?” I asked. I couldn’t control the laughter that kept wanting to come. She playfully hit me.

“Don’t laugh. It was a very important dream I had,” she said. Then she laughed, relieving me. “I wanted to be skinny and rich. Do you know how many dream houses that bitch owned? Not to mention her pink sports car.”

That brought us both to laughter.

I pulled her closer to me and planted a kiss on her lips. The mood and moment felt right and she fell into me, which caused me to move in closer. When she parted, she asked me in turn. “What about you? Did you always want to be in construction?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No…my first choice was President,” I responded.

She chuckled. “President of the United States?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Gotta start dreaming big. That’s my motto.”

We laughed, and I pulled her closer to me and we kissed once more. It felt good to have my arms around her as we sat on her couch and just enjoyed being with one another. When she pulled away, she leaned into me and I held her closer, with her head resting on my shoulder. We might not have had sex that night, but we spent the night just holding one another. I’m not sure when we fell asleep, but we drifted off with my arm around her and Kemara cradled against my embrace. Taking things slow wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. All that really mattered was that we were together and everything felt right.

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