- Lucy -
I couldn’t unlock my eyes from his. Something about the expression on his face was so intense, like my hooking up with him was inevitable and he knew it. It actually made me feel completely out of control in a way I didn’t recognize, a way I wasn’t sure I liked.
Not that I didn’t want to kiss him again, but I was afraid to be in that situation again. I didn’t understand how something could feel so right and so wrong at the same time. It felt like no matter what I did, I was letting myself down.
When I finally peeled my eyes from his, I focused them on the menu. Maybe if I just stared at it the whole time, I wouldn’t notice his dimple that Fiona always went on about. Or the way his thick eyebrows framed his face. Or the way the adorable smattering of freckles he always got in the summertime had come up.
I took a deep breath and tried to figure out what was on offer, but it was confusing. There were only six things, and there were no prices. I had no choice but to look back up at Aiden.
“Sorry to be dense,” I said, “but I haven’t seen a menu like this before.”
He smiled. “It’s not really fair to call it a menu,” he said. “It’s more like a brochure. These are the things they’re going to bring you. It’s just for your information.”
“So you don’t pick what you want?”
He shook his head. “No. They assume you want it all, and they bring each dish to you one at a time.”
“But there are six things on the list. I can’t eat that much.”
“Sure you can. The portions are smaller so you can get through each plate.”
“Weird.”
“I could’ve taken you to Eddie Rockets for a big dirty burger, but I’m trying to impress you, remember?”
“Right.”
“Actually, the last course is really why I wanted to bring you here.”
I looked down at the menu, letting my eyes scan to the bottom. “A medley of sorbets…” I read the flavors to myself: passion fruit, mango, pineapple, papaya, and pomegranate. “Oh my god, each one sounds more delicious than the last.”
“Apparently the guy that makes them is some famous master sorbet maker. I figured that would be right up your alley.”
“And how did you figure that?” I asked. “Considering you hardly know me at all?”
He shrugged. “Just a hunch.”
“I have to admit, I am looking forward to trying those.” I turned the menu over. “And what about drinks? I don’t see a drinks menu at all.”
He smiled. “That’s because they’ve paired each course with a wine that will compliment it.”
“Who’s they?”
“I don’t know. Someone whose palate is more refined than ours.”
I laughed. “Well that could be anyone.”
“So true. They probably just asked some random guy in the wine aisle at the grocery store. It’ll probably be a bunch of house reds with fake, fancy names.”
“I have to hand it to you, Aiden. I had no idea you were this classy.”
“I’m not,” he said. “I just know people who are and sometimes it rubs off.”
“Well, maybe some of your class will rub off on me.”
“I hope not,” he said. “I like you just the way you are.”
I pursed my lips. I was beyond confused. Every time I let my guard down, I found myself having a good time and thinking it was the best date I’d ever been on.
Of course, it wasn’t really a date. Not in the technical, going out with someone new sense. I mean, Aiden wasn’t new. This side of him was, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about feeling at ease with him.
But what we were doing was so out of the ordinary. I mean, he was clearly trying to impress me, as if I was a woman he was attracted to, a woman he wanted more than gentle teasing and genuine encouragement from. Even the way he’d slipped his hand across my lower back on the sidewalk outside sent chills through my body.
And while I desperately wanted to forget about our history and keep pretending we just met, I couldn’t entirely forget about the fact that every time I felt my feelings for him try to be something more, I hit some sort of glass wall that made me want to shut down.
If I got carried away with him, I wouldn’t have any secret parts of me left. There would be no one on Earth that knew me better than he did, and I hated the idea of giving up what little control I had over my life by oversharing myself with him.
Plus, what if I shared myself and he didn’t like what he learned, what there was to see? What if the fantasy of hooking up with his best friend was better than the reality?
And even in the best case scenario, if we fooled around and it was amicable, he’d eventually date someone else and it would be weird, especially for her. He might have to distance himself from me like I’d seen my married friends do with the people they used to hook up with.
But something had already shifted between us, and I couldn’t help but feel like no matter what happened, our relationship would never be the same. And even if I hadn’t agreed to come on the date, the fact that we’d kissed was enough to set us on a different course.
And as desperate as I was to know how things were going to end up, I felt like I was playing Mario Kart for the first time, like I could barely see around the next corner, much less the destination.
“So are you ready for an adventure?” Aiden asked.
My face dropped. “What?”
“Are you ready for a culinary adventure?”
“Oh right,” I said, feeling the tightness in my chest dissipate as I noticed the staff beside the table. “Yeah, I’m ready.” As ready as I’ll ever be. “Bring it on.”
“The first course is a veal mousse bruschetta,” the waitress said, setting a small plate down in front of us.
Then the wine guy stepped up. “We’ve paired that with a with a sherry aperitif to bring out the gaminess of the veal, the creaminess of the mozzarella, and the sweetness of the tomatoes.”
Aiden and I smiled, and the staff nodded and disappeared.
“Pretty fancy,” I said, eyeing the row of perfectly toasted veal mobiles.
“And I thought I took food seriously.”
“Maybe your bloody nachos are the next course.”
He nodded. “I hope not.”
“Should I just use my fingers?” I asked, trying to see what the people at nearby tables were doing.
“Do whatever feels good,” he said.
“That’s the same advice my roommate gave me before I came on this date.”
“In that case,” he said, grabbing his stubby wine glass. “I’d like to propose a toast.”
“Okay,” I said, raising my glass.
“To doing whatever feels good-”
I clinked his glass.
“And to old friends and new beginnings.”
I kept my eyes on him as I brought the drink to my lips and took a sip. “Whoa, that’s strong,” I said, licking my lips.
“Yeah, aperitifs often are,” he said. “They’re definitely an acquired taste.”
“I was expecting wine.”
“The rest of the courses probably will be,” he said. “Except maybe the last one or two.”
“What will they be?”
“Maybe brandy or something to compliment the dessert.”
“Brandy?!”
He shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“I thought brandy was only for gangsters.”
“Gangsters and little old ladies.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be sloshed if the other drinks are as strong as this one.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take good advantage- I mean care- of you.”
I swallowed. “Speaking of taking advantage,” I said, eager to change the subject. “Before you try and pull anything, I want to make sure you know I intend to go Dutch with you on the dinner bill tonight.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Why not?”
“Cause it’s my treat.”
“But I always go Dutch on the first Tinder date.”
“That may be the case,” he said. “But this isn’t your first Tinder date. It’s your last.”