King of Sloth (Kings of Sin #4) by Ana Huang

When I reached the cross street, I was sweaty, frazzled, and wheezing for breath.

New Year’s resolution: do more cardio. Yoga and Pilates had not prepared me for trekking through the city in Manolo Blahniks.

The other side of the avenue was equally as crowded, but at least I didn’t have to clear an entire parade. Whoever came up with the concept of parades in general deserved to be shot.

I elbowed my way past the crush of people. Halfway through, someone slammed into me so hard my teeth actually rattled. I looked up, ready to rip the guy a new one.

Green eyes, brutally handsome face. He looked oddly familiar, enough so that it gave me pause, but he disappeared before I had the chance to say a single word.

It was just as well. I didn’t have time to get into it with a stranger, no matter how rude he’d been.

11:47 p.m.

I picked up my speed and nearly knocked over a woman in a white snowflake hat.

“Hey! Watch it, blondie!” she yelled.

I ignored her. Cars, people, and shop windows blurred until I finally, finally reached the Empire State Building’s entrance.

11:55 p.m.

I sped through the security process and prayed the elevator here, at least, worked properly.

11:58 p.m.

The sleek glass lift whisked me up to the eighty-sixth floor. Up, up, up, so fast my ears popped, and then…

I was there.

Midnight.

I spilled onto the outdoor observation deck, my skin drenched in sweat and my heart pounding hard enough to break my ribs. Normally, I’d be self-conscious about the way I looked right now, but that wasn’t the most important thing.

The most important thing was finding Xavier.

I scanned the deck. It was nearly empty, and for good reason. The heaters were no match against the wind, which whipped against exposed skin with vicious ferocity, and the cold was so biting, it gnawed through layers of wool and cashmere to burrow deep within my bones.

My breaths formed tiny white puffs as I circled the outdoor space. My face was numb after one lap, but that didn’t compare to the ice trickling through my veins after the second check.

He wasn’t here.

He’d either left—or he’d never showed up at all.

I stopped somewhere between the exit and the edge and stood there, shivering. I was so tired I was surprised my legs still worked, and the blanket of city lights beneath me took on a surreal quality, like scattered stardust waiting for a wish.

If you don’t show up, I’ll know what your answer is.

I’d gotten here exactly at midnight. If Xavier had left after the hour, I would’ve seen him. Had he gotten held up or left early for an emergency?

No. If he said he’d be here, he would—unless he’d changed his mind.

I didn’t blame him. If I were him, I’d change my mind too because why would anyone…why would they…

A sob racked the air.

I’d never heard such a thing claw its way out of my throat, and it took me a minute to recognize the sound came from me.

Once the first one escaped, the rest followed, and I could no more stop them than a sand wall could stop a tsunami.

Sunday night, I’d cried silent tears, but there was nothing silent about these. They were guttural, chest-heaving sobs, the type that echoed across the deck and made the very air tremble with sympathy. They would’ve been humiliating had anyone seen me, but at this point, I didn’t care.

I’d fucked up my relationship with the only man I’d ever truly loved, and I had no one to blame but myself.

“Luna.”

Another sob shook my shoulders. I pressed a fist to my mouth, but the sound bled through anyway, and when I squeezed my eyes shut, I could feel the phantom of Xavier’s warmth brushing my back.

It was worse than the cold because it wasn’t real; it was my mind conjuring things to torture me.

“Luna.”

I needed to get out of here. If I stayed here for a second longer, I’d either freeze to death or lose my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

It’s not him. It was a figment of my imagination, and—

Firm hands grasped my arms, turning me around, and there he was. Inky black hair falling carelessly over his forehead, full mouth sculpted with concern, eyes that carved a trail of warmth through my frozen tears as they examined me.

He was still holding me. His body heat seeped through my clothes, and another set of shivers rippled down my spine—this time from warmth, not the cold. Perhaps my mind could evoke sounds and images and sensations, but it couldn’t create this: the total, all-encompassing peace that I felt only when I was with him.

Not a figment. He was real. I cried harder.

“Hey.” Alarm brightened his gaze. “It’s okay. Don’t cry.” He rubbed away one of my tears with a gentle thumb. “Shh. It’s okay.”

“I thought you’d left.” I hiccupped, embarrassed but too relieved to do anything about it.

Understanding dawned on Xavier’s face. “There was an old couple here earlier. One of them fell, so I helped them downstairs. I sent you a message in case you showed up while I was gone.”

“My phone died.” I hiccupped again. “I forgot to charge it.” “Ah.” Xavier’s voice hoarsened as he pulled me toward him.

“I’m here, Luna. I didn’t leave. I’m here.”

His words should’ve reassured me, but they threw the floodgates wider. I buried my face in his chest as years of pent-up emotion poured out.