She asked me out on a date even though she did it in such a way that it wasn't supposed to look like a date. She asked me to go out with the whole group as if we were friends, and as if I could give a shit about anyone there besides her.
No, she is the only one that I am interested in. She is the only one that I want to get to know.
We take a dinghy over from the yacht to shore, and on the way, Ellis Holte whispers into Aurora’s ear, occasionally glancing over at me. I can't really hear what she’s saying over the sound of the boat splitting the waves and its roaring motor. I can only hope that she doesn’t change her mind. When we get to shore, she takes a step toward me and grabs my hand. I text Lyft, a ride-share app, on my phone and leave Ellis and her other dumbfounded friends alone on the dock.
“So, is this your favorite place to eat?” Aurora asks, looking at the outside of the place with a tilt to her head.
I laugh. “I know that it doesn't look like much but trust me, this is the place for the best fish tacos in the whole of the Hamptons.”
She looks around the place, not exactly impressed. I do have to admit that Jack's Crab Shack has seen better days. They used to have a place to sit inside, but one of the big winter storms flooded the place and they never reopened that part to the public.
Now, the restaurant is something of a fast food joint. You order what you want through a glass window and pick up the food at another window. There are about ten wooden picnic tables out front where you can bury your feet in the sand and all of them are occupied. She doesn't know what to order, so I order for her.
By the time our tacos are ready one of the picnic tables clears out. Taking a sip of her Sprite, she looks up at me and shakes her head.
“What?” I ask, shrugging my shoulders. She shakes her head again and bites into her fish taco.
As soon as she swallows, I can tell that I have converted her to my side.
“Are those delicious?” I ask. She nods vigorously and quickly takes one more bite and then another and another.
Once her taco disappears before my eyes, she reaches for mine. At first, I protest but she shakes her head and puts her index finger up to stop me and I quickly give in.
After she's done, she takes a few more sips of her drink and gets up. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to eat your whole dinner.”
“Yes, you did.” I smile. I nudge her and she nudges me back.
“Come on. Let me make it up to you.”
I follow her to the back of the line, which has grown substantially since the last time we stood in it.
“I can't believe you just ate my dinner," I say, shaking my head. “What the hell was that about?”
“I was hungry,” she says, tilting her head and smiling widely.
“Still, that's no excuse for lack of manners.”
“Lack of manners?” she asks. “You just took me on a date to one of the dingiest places ever!”
“So what? It’s delicious. You, me, and everyone in this line knows it. You ate both your dinner and mine in five bites.”
“Yes, I'm not arguing with that,” she says.” All that I'm saying is that it’s not the kind of first date that I'm usually used to.”
“Did you ever eat like that on any of your other first dates?” I ask.
She shakes her head from side to side.
“And how many of those first dates resulted in second and third dates?” I ask.
She starts to laugh.
“What's so funny?” I ask.
“Well, you seem to be so certain that there is going to be a second date here.”
"I am.”
“And why is that?”
I don't have an answer. I just look into her eyes and lose myself there. She opens her mouth just a little bit to say something else and I can't help but reach for it.
I touch her lower lip with my thumb, parting her lips slightly. I move an inch closer. My hand runs down her neck and then up toward her hair. I tip my head toward hers and open my mouth.
When our lips touch, my tongue searches for hers. I bury my hands in her hair, tugging slightly.
She opens her mouth wider and kisses me again. I taste the salty air and the warmth of her body all at once. I wrap my arms around her waist and feel her fingers and nails digging into my back. She sends shivers down my spine that make my knees weak.
Who are you? I wonder. And where have you been all of my life?
3
Aurora
The kiss takes me completely by surprise and yet it feels like the most natural thing in the world. The moment is just right. His lips are soft and effervescent. His hands are deliberate and knowing. Tugging at my hair, he runs his fingers softly down my neck. Each one of his moves makes my breath quicken just a little bit, following the beat of my heart.
“Who are you?" I ask him when we pull away from each other.
My eyes focus deeply on his. There are specks of green and yellow and blue in there and they all twinkle under the harsh fluorescent lights of the taco stand.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“I am Henry Asher. I am twenty-seven. I live in New York City. I grew up in Montauk, not too far from here, in a two-bedroom house with my mother. She still lives there. Montauk is a place that no one ever really leaves so moving to New York a few years ago is one of my proudest accomplishments. That and getting my short story published in the New Yorker. Your turn.”
My mouth drops open. I stare at him in disbelief.
No one is this dishonest with a total stranger. Why isn't he trying to impress me like everyone else out there? What kind of game is he playing?
“Are you not gonna tell me who you are?” he asks.
“You already know, don't you?”
“I know some things, I guess."
“Like what?”
“Like your name is Aurora Penelope Tate and your parents started Tate Media. Your father owns that yacht we were floating on all day and you don't seem to like your friends very much."
I stare at him, cross my arms, and even take a step away. “What gave you that idea?” I ask, defensively.
He’s not wrong, I’m just embarrassed by how obvious I had been when I thought that no one could know the truth.
“Just the way you were with them. Standoffish. It's like you are just tolerating their presence.”
“They are a little bit too much sometimes, I guess,” I admit. “But that doesn't mean that I don't like them.”
He tilts his head, unconvinced.
What he just said is of course the truth, but he is a stranger and this is going too far.
“So is there anything else about you that I should know?” he asks.
We’re almost at the window but the people in front of us place an order for twenty tacos so we’re not as close as I had thought.
“Well, you seem to know everything already, I'm not sure what else I can share with you.”
“I doubt that,” he says, refusing to take his gaze off me.
His stare is so intense I can barely look away. When I try, I can't.
“Tell me something… True about you,” he says.
This is not how first dates are supposed to go. There's supposed to be a lot of joking and laughing and talking about nothing in particular.