Chapter 15 Like Neon Sky
“I can’t believe you broke your coffee mug when you saw me walk into your shop,” I told Rina. “Talk about a knee-jerk reaction. I’m honored.”
She rolled her eyes at me, and then touched her forefinger to her thumb, stretched her other fingers up, and then moved her wrist slightly forward to say: Asshole.
This was the most decent out of the three ways the word could be signed.
The other two were…slightly on the vulgar side, to put it mildly, but that didn’t mean Rina hadn’t already used them on me on our walk over to the chocolate shop.
It was for “demonstration purposes”, she’d written in her notebook when I’d stared at her with horror on my face.
What a beautiful liar.
We’d decided to leave our cars back at Vila do Acaí and walk to Katherine Anne Confections – you know, the shop with the expensive hot chocolate. It was only a few blocks from do Acaí anyway, and the weather was bearable enough that I’d suggested we not go by car.
And also because I wanted Rina with me for as long as I could have her. Selfish intentions and all.
She didn’t mind the walk, actually. If anything, she seemed excited about it. She’d perk up every time we came across a store or building with Christmas lights and decorations already hung up, and I found that super fucking cute.
It was mid-November, but I guess fellow Chicagoans wanted to get into the holiday spirit early this year. Can’t say I blamed them.
Rina loves Christmas; it’s her favorite time of the year. She wrote an entire paragraph – while walking – about how much she adored fairy lights, hollies, hot chocolate with marshmallows, the idea of Santa Claus and Elves, and Christmas carols.
Especially the Christmas carols.
I’d refrained from asking her about mistletoes, because let’s face it, that shit’s just flat-out corny, and she’d probably stomp me in the dick if I even mentioned it to her indirectly.
So I didn’t. Simple.
Rina stopped in front of Katherine Anne’s, and then looked up at me with a wide grin on her flushed face.
She was wearing a crimson, white-faux-fur collared pea coat with pink embroidered roses on it, and her white beanie had a Havana bunny painted on its center.
When she’d stepped out from behind the counter back at her shop, I’d expected to see her in another one of her quirky skirts, but nope, she was wearing dark, skintight jeans and Joan of Arctic boots, both of which made her appear sexier than she already is.
I blew out a puff of air, and watched as Rina wiped snow off her face with a gloved hand.
I think it was the way she looked in that moment – so uncontrived and at peace – or maybe it was just an instinct, but I decided to show her how gorgeous I thought she was, instead of using words I knew would hardly do her justice.
And, because I didn’t need a damn quartet playing in the background, or even doves flying over our heads to do what I wanted to, I quickly stepped closer to her, placed both my hands on either side of her waist, and pulled her to me before leaning in and pressing my lips to hers.
It was sublime; it was hypnotic. Kissing Rina for the very first time was like finding home under a neon sky.
She was made of roses, and made of silence. She felt like bliss, and a little bit of snow.
I was so lost in her, that I ended up finding a piece of myself that was new, thrilling.
Addictive.
She smiled against my lips before opening them for me, and as soon as I got my first real taste of her mouth, I forgot where I was, or why I was. It was only us, our warm, stumbling breaths, the gently falling snow, and the insistent sounds of our lips as they came together again and again.
I brushed my tongue over the roof of her mouth, and she sucked in a breath.
She pushed herself against me, so I tightened my hold on her.
She bit my lower lip, and I groaned. Back and forth we went, and even earned a few whistles and suggestions about getting a room from the unintentional audience we’d earned.
Not that I paid much attention to any of that.
Rina slowly, reluctantly, broke the kiss, and then fanned herself. I chuckled, and pressed two short, sound kisses on her lips before letting go of her waist. She started walking backwards, and then gave me a thorough once-over before pushing open the shop’s door and disappearing inside.
I chuckled again as I followed her, and all but moaned when I entered the shop. The potent smell of chocolate, paired with the lingering taste of Rina’s mouth – they were making me dizzy with exhilaration.
By the time I joined her at the ordering counter, she was already browsing the menu with a look of concentration on her face. When she saw me, she shifted on her feet and tapped a nail over the seventh item on the menu.
I looked at the woman behind the counter. “We’ll have two Hot Chocolate and Truffle Flights, please.”
She smiled. “Sure thing. Anything else?”
Rina pulled at the sleeve of my sweater, and when I looked at her, she pointed at something in the display case to her right.
I raised a brow. “Rum Cake Balls?”
She grinned and nodded excitedly.
“It’s 10:30 in the morning, Rina.”
She gave me a thumbs up, that grin of hers still in place.
“Are you trying to intoxicate me as an act of revenge?” I mused.
She wiggled her brows and lifted a shoulder.
I laughed. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re too fucking adorable for me to say no to.”
She clapped her hands, and I asked for six Rum Balls before handing my credit card over to the woman taking our order.
Rina went back to looking at the display counter, and I shook my head around a smile when she bent and almost pressed her face against it.
She was too damn cute for my smitten ass.
Our hot chocolate and cake soon came in, and as I grabbed the small box that had the rum balls in it, Rina picked up our hot chocolate cups before jerking her head towards the door.
“You don’t wanna get a table?” I asked her.
She shook her head, so I let her lead me outside the store.
We’d only just gotten out, though, when I stopped, barely avoiding crashing into Rina, who’d halted quite abruptly. “Whoa, hey. Rina, what’s wrong?”
She didn’t move, didn’t so much as shift.
I walked around her so that I could look at her. “Rina?”
She blinked and faced me, and when I saw a glimmer of pain in her expression, I cupped the side of her face and ran a thumb over her cheek. It’s a good thing I had gloves on, otherwise she would’ve easily sensed my fear through my chilly, almost clammy skin.
“What is it?” I asked.
She pointed ahead, and when I followed her direction, I saw a group of people, dressed as elves and Santa, setting up a small platform across the street from us.
There were wired microphones lying on top of large speakers, with Christmas props piled next to them, and even a fully decorated Xmas tree on the right side of the wooden platform.
It didn’t take a genius to realize what it is that these people were going to do.
“They’re going to sing Christmas carols,” I said to Rina.
Her chin wobbled a little as she nodded, and God, my heart ached for her, so much so that I felt blinded by it.
“Do you wanna leave?”
She shook her head and tapped her left ear.
She wanted to listen to them.
“Okay, then. Come on, let’s grab a seat.” I walked us to a small bench next to Katherine Anne’s, and as soon as we settled down, Rina handed a cup of hot chocolate to me.
“Thanks.” I opened the cake box, and we took off our gloves as we sat there in comfortable silence, eating our cake and drinking our hot coco while watching the group as they continued to set things up.
“I think I’m really starting to feel this cake right now,” I told Rina. Maybe it was all the chocolate and truffle, or maybe it was the rum, but I felt pretty relaxed and elated.
She clicked her tongue, and then hiccupped loudly as she finished the last of the cake. She placed a hand over her mouth, and I chuckled.
“For the record: it was you who wanted these damned balls in your mouth, not me. Now we’re both facing the consequence of your temptation,” I said.
She gasped and slapped me on the arm, which made me laugh.
A screech of the microphone pierced the air.
Rina and I looked ahead, just as everyone in the choir introduced themselves, announced that they were now accepting bookings for shows, and that this was a quick preview session for anyone who wanted to hire them, and then started singing Deck the Halls.
A small crowd had formed around them, their phones in front of them as they recorded the group.
I turned to look at Rina, and saw her watching the choir with longing on her face.
When she’d told me about her love for Christmas carols, she’d also told me how her and her dad would sing them every year from the beginning of November up until New Year’s Eve, even though it wasn’t exactly logical.
She really enjoyed singing with him, and Christmas carols were just something that made her feel connected to him, even now.
I bumped my knee against hers, and she tilted her head upwards.
Giving her a smile, I got to my feet and offered her a hand, which she took without hesitation.
That little resolute decision of hers did something to me – something profoundly warm – and so, instead of trying to put a name to it, I embraced it fully.
“My, my; don’t you look absolutely lovely in my arms,” I said as I pulled her close.
She chuckled, but stopped as she hiccupped, and then perked up when the choir began singing Silent Night. Her eyes all but sparkled, and when I lifted a brow at her, she tapped the middle finger of her left hand against her chin twice.
I shook my head. “I don’t get it.” I really didn’t like saying that to her. I wanted to genuinely invest my time in conversing with her like this, but my lack of knowledge in Sign was making it difficult for me to do anything in that department. I had to rectify that as soon as possible.
Rina must’ve seen the struggle on my face, because she ran her fingers over my jaw before giving me a quick peck on the cheek. She then pointed at the still-singing choir, tapped her left ear, and then gave me a thumbs up.
Ah, yes, now I understood what she meant. “This is your favorite Christmas carol,” I said.
She beamed up at me, and then gave me another thumbs up. When I sighed, she touched her index and middle fingers to her mouth before moving them upwards.
“Sing?” I guessed.
She nodded, and then tapped my chest.
“You want me to sing?”
Another nod, followed by a hiccup.
“Rina, I can’t, for the life of me, sing a carol, let alone anything,” I told her honestly. “Even my bathroom walls start closing in on me when I occasionally hum in the shower. It’s terrifying, trust me.”
She laughed, and then once again signed for me to sing.
“No.”
She tugged at the collar of my sweater with a look of plea on her face.
“No, Rina.”
She pouted a little, to which I huffed.
“Fine,” I relented, “but if people suddenly start throwing stones at us, don’t be surprised.”
She rolled her eyes and gestured for me to get on with it.
I cleared my throat, just as the choir started singing O Come All Ye Faithful. I decided to sing along, but softer so that only Rina could hear. I did warn her about the stones, but that didn’t mean I was ready to experience them firsthand. No, thank you very much.
“O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant! O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem…” I cleared my throat again, as if that would be of any reasonable help. “Come and behold Him, born the King of Angels…”
Rina brushed the tips of her slightly cold fingers over my mouth and smiled, just as a thin sheet of snow began falling on and around us. A few small flakes fell on her cheeks, and I followed them as they traveled from her chin to her coat.
“God of God, Light of Light. Lo, He abhors not the Virgin's womb. Very God. Begotten, not created,” I continued to sing.
She placed a palm on the center of my chest and smiled wider, so I took her hand in mine and pressed sound kisses on her fingers, her knuckles, and the inside of her wrist.
She blushed, and I leaned in before touching my nose to hers.
“Did you ever try doing it again?” I asked her.
Her forehead creased, and she lifted her head a little in question.
“Singing, I mean. Or talking,” I said, and then swallowed. “You know, after your parents…”
She shook her head no, and then hiccupped again.
“Do you want to try it sometime?” I wasn’t expecting her to, or even insinuating that she should. I just needed to know if she ever wanted to, and was perhaps hesitant to try.
Rina seemed contemplative, and then, a look of fatigue took over her features as she shrugged in response.
I wrapped my arms around her tighter. “I’m sorry if it was an invasive question. I didn’t mean to put you in the spot or make you feel uncomfortable, I promise.”
She patted her chest once, and then signed the letters ‘O’ and ‘K’ before running the back of her fingers over my jaw.
I sighed in relief. “I’m glad.” I then canted my head a little.
“You know, we could stay here, get some more of that Rum Cake and keep listening to carols, or,” I said, “you and I can go to your shop, get my car, and spend the rest of the day eating Belgian fries, ceviche, empanadas, macaroons, and so much more at the French Market. What do you say?”
Rina grinned beautifully and gave me a thumbs up in return, and even bounced a little on her feet.
I chuckled, more relieved that I hadn’t really hurt her with my earlier question, and, unable to resist the urge, I erased the small space between us before pressing my lips to hers.