Dark Light (The Dark Light Series)(38)

It’s only 9 A.M., too early to start getting ready so I decide to go to the garage to hit the heavy bag. I slip on the pink 12 oz. gloves Chris bought me and begin to pound into the hard sack. It sways and rocks from the assault and I unleash a flood of blows, letting my mind drift to the myriad of concerns plaguing my mind.

My life is no longer mine. I was only brought into this world to save a race of Light Enchanters from conflicts with the Dark. Yet, they are nowhere to be found in my time of need. Do I really need them? I’ve actually done pretty well, considering I was set up to fail. If it weren’t for the spell cast on me to be insignificant, would I have been a great human? Would Jared have fallen for me years ago? Would I have gone off to a prestigious university? So many unanswered questions and no reset button to go back and do it all again now that I know the truth. But had I known, I would have possibly let it cripple me. I probably would have turned out even more screwed up than I am now.

Before my tired arms break me from reverie, I am dripping sweat and exhausted. I maneuver my gloves off and toss them on the small work bench. I’m not going to let this crap ruin my day. The sun is shining and I get to see Dorian. Live in the moment. Maybe that should be my new mantra.

After taking a long hot shower and washing my hair, I step out into a steam filled bathroom. I take another 45 minutes to blow dry and straighten my long tresses until they are bone straight. I smile at the result in the mirror. Dorian has only seen me with curls and I think I look older and more sophisticated when it’s straight. After much deliberation, I decide on my favorite pair of tight jeans, a royal blue top and flat boots. The blue looks great against my milky skin and the boots are comfortable enough for walking yet dressy enough for a restaurant, since I have no clue what we’re doing. I’m carefully applying my eyeliner when I get a text message.

From Dorian, 11:16 P.M.

-Where would you like to meet?

Hmmm, good question. I’ve been so wrapped up in getting ready, I didn’t even think about that.

-You can come to my house if you want.

Donna has gone to the gym for one of her classes and Chris won’t be home until later this evening. I’m not quite ready to introduce Dorian to them yet and I don’t know how he’d feel about meeting the parents.

-Can you meet me at Jamba Juice off Woodmen Rd.?

Humph. Just as I suspected. Maybe I should’ve told him I’m home alone but no use in making a big deal out of it.

-Sounds good. See you in a bit.

I finish applying my makeup and triple check my outfit in the mirror. I don’t want to appear too eager but I want to look nice, which I think I’ve pulled off. After grabbing my jacket, I’m out the door. I put on some Maroon 5 and let Adam Levine fondle me with his sinful voice all the way to Woodmen Commons.

Dorian is sitting at a small table when I arrive, looking every bit as strikingly gorgeous and sexy as I remember. He looks up at me with hunger in his eyes and I nearly freeze where I stand. Thankfully, he’s dressed in jeans and a thin, form-fitting charcoal sweater so I don’t feel underdressed. The sweater hugs his physique in a way that should be outlawed; it should be a crime to look that damn good.

“Gabriella. I’ve missed you,” he breathes when I approach. His eyes scan the length of my body, flashing with approval with a hint of desire. I start to sit but he rises before I can. He extends his hand and I slowly take it, confused as to why we’re here. “Come,” he says, leading me out the glass doors.

“So I’m assuming we’re not here for juice,” I snicker. Ok, maybe I am a little hurt that he didn’t want to come to my house, but I know that it’s premature for such a step. I’m just having an irrational ‘girl' moment.

“No, we don’t need any juice. I have everything we need,” he states casually, choosing to ignore my snide tongue. He opens the passenger car door for me and I climb in as gracefully as I can.

“So where are we going?” I smile, showing him that I’m in good spirits, despite our greeting.

He pulls the Mercedes out of the parking lot and into the flow of traffic. "You'll see."

I instantly recognize Memorial Park as we approach and a wide smile spreads across my face. It’s one of my favorite places to hang out in the summer, and this sunny day has brought out a crowd of families, pets, and skateboarders, though there’s still a chill in the air.

“I thought we could have a picnic,” Dorian says. He opens his car door, and goes to the back to retrieve something from the trunk. Before I can collect my purse and sweater, he’s already at my door, holding it open so I may step out. Such a gentleman. He’s holding a large wicker basket and a blanket. I feel like I’m in a corny chick flick but my heart swells at the sentiment.