Dark Light (The Dark Light Series)(88)

In the spirit of honesty, I nod my head slightly. “I thought I did. But he didn’t return those feelings. Not when I needed him to.”

I’m ashamed. I feel like such a whore, admitting my feelings for another man to the man that I’m sleeping with. Awkward doesn’t even begin to sum it up.

“He loves you too,” Dorian says taking another forkful of his food. He’s still lighthearted, not at all disconcerted. “And you’re wrong; you do hide who you are with him.”

Ok, that’s it. There’s no way I can eat after that. What does he know about my relationship with Jared? And who is he to tell me I’m not being myself with him?

“And you know this, how?” I say with a layer of attitude. There are subjects that are just off limits. Jared is one of them.

“I’ve seen how he looks at you. I’ve seen how you look at him. And how you’ve just described him…It’s not hard to interpret,” Dorian smiles, in spite of my serious glare. “And if you were truly yourself with him, you would have disclosed how you really feel. You wouldn’t be here with me. Yet, here you sit. Because it’s easier to pretend with someone who hardly knows you than to be yourself with someone who loves you for all that you are.”

I stare at Dorian in disbelief, totally thrown by what he’s said. He’s so right. Yet I hate him for bringing my biggest fears and regrets to light. John Mayer plays on repeat in my head, begging for someone to stop this train of life, to slow down so he can return to how things once were. To simpler days of youth and oblivion. It’s all moving too fast for me. I’m not ready to admit who and what I am to anybody. Especially not Jared. His opinion of me is the one that counts the most.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” Dorian murmurs. Seriously? Is he fucking with me?

“Dorian, I don’t know what you think you may know about me, but let’s get one thing straight.” I push my plate forward, indicating that I’m done with my food and Dorian’s snide remarks. “I am who I am. And what I choose to disclose to my friends is my business. And if and when I withhold information, it has nothing to do with my comfort. It’s for their protection.

“The people in my life are not disposable, Dorian; they are everything to me. And like it or not, you’re one of those people. I’m not here with you because I am running from my feelings for Jared. If I wanted to be with him, I’d be with him. I’m here with you because I want to be. I actually have feelings for you. Sorry but sometimes my vagina and my heart meet on common ground. But don’t worry; I’m used to disappointment. I get that this is just about sex. Just two consensual adults having fun, right?”

Dorian gently pats his mouth with his napkin and sets it on the table. He puts down his silverware and pushes his plate away as well. “Gabriella, you think I feel you view me as some consolation prize? Like an alternative to what could have been with your childhood crush? It’s completely the opposite. You are just now living. And you are experiencing this new life with me. I could not be more honored.

“I see you for who and what you are, Gabriella. And what I see is truly beautiful. You try like hell to mask the truth with this asinine tough girl act but I see right through you. Dammit! I see you. You can’t fool me. I know I could never compete with what you have with Jared and I don’t want to. I just want you. I just want to be here. I just want to be where ever you are. Why can’t you see that? Why are you so afraid to feel?”

Dorian looks to me for reaction, and all I can think about is how the hell I am going to swallow down the massive knot in my throat. My eyes are wide and unblinking, because if I blink, fat, salty tears will roll down my flush cheeks. The rapid rise and fall of my chest does nothing to conceal the wave of emotion that threatens to drown me here at this table.

“Um, Dorian, um, I’m sorry, I have to go,” I croak, scurrying out of my seat just as the first tear escapes from my eye. I can vaguely hear him calling my name as I make my way to the door, throwing myself into the pouring rain.

I dive under the restaurant’s awning in an attempt to stay somewhat dry as tears stream down my face. Seconds later, Dorian appears, furiously searching for me, expecting me to have run away in the torrential downpour. He’s instantly relieved when he sees me leaning against the storefront window, a bumbling mess of sobs.

Dorian hurries to my side, ignoring the rain, and wraps his arms around me tightly. He pulls my face into his chest with no regard for my tear-streaked mascara. He comforts me. After I basically told him to stay out of my business and that I was in love with another man, he comforts me.