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

His expression was fierce, and his touch seared like it was trying to impress his conviction onto my soul.

It happened so suddenly, I would’ve stumbled had I been standing.

A whoosh swept through my stomach, followed by the dizzying, disorienting, but not totally unpleasant sensation of tumbling over an edge. Pieces of me floated alongside his words, little champagne bubbles that shouldn’t exist after such a shitty day but did anyway.

Xavier Castillo. Only you.

“You should be a motivational coach.” I managed a wobbly smile. “You would kill on the speaker circuit.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” For once, he didn’t match my smile. “Tell me you understand, Luna. None of what happened was your fault. Fuck Bentley, fuck Georgia, and fuck your family.” He paused. “Except Pen.”

Another laugh burbled, elbowing unshed tears out of the way. “I understand.”

I truly did.

I’d come to the same conclusion seconds before Xavier’s speech, but thinking it and hearing someone else affirm it were two different things.

An anchor unhooked from my shoulders, and for the first time in years, I breathed easier.

Running into my family had started as a disaster and ended up being therapeutic. Go figure. Nothing in my life had worked the way it should’ve since Xavier entered it, though I wasn’t complaining.

“Good.” He released my shoulders, but a trace of caution lingered on his face. “We should probably get out of here soon unless you want to see Pen again.”

“She won’t wake up for a while, and I don’t want to get Rhea into trouble.” I explained my father’s instructions. Xavier responded with a c word that made me smile. “But I agree. We should leave before the staff starts asking questions.”

A quick glance at my watch told me we’d been here for…fuck.

Two hours? How was that possible?

“We’ll pick up dinner. Then I’ll drop you off at your apartment,” Xavier said as we exited the building. It was already dark outside, and a brisk chill snuck beneath the layers of my coat and sweater. “You must be hungry.”

“I’m not that hungry.” Despite my recent catharsis, I blanched at the thought of returning to my empty apartment. Well, The Fish was there, but he wasn’t exactly stimulating company.

I usually didn’t mind being alone. I preferred it. But after the past few hours, I needed a physical release. Something to shake off the day.

“I have a better idea.” I stopped next to the passenger side and spoke over the top of his car. “You were telling me the other day about this great club in Greenwich Village. Is it open on Wednesdays?”

Xavier’s eyebrows winged up. “Yes, but—” “We should go.”

“Are you sure? It’s been a long day.”

“That’s why I want to go.” I opened the door, slid inside, and buckled my seat belt while Xavier took the driver’s seat. “You said I should be more spontaneous. This is me being spontaneous.”

“It’s a little different than the type of club you’re thinking of.” Xavier searched my face. He must’ve found whatever he was looking for because a smile slowly replaced his frown. “But if you want to go, we’ll go. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”





CHAPTER 25





Xavier





“I can’t believe you did this to me.” Sloane’s breathless accusation whirled through the air as I spun her out. Her dress flared around her knees in a silky blue cloud before it settled languidly against her skin. “You took me to a salsa club. I’ll never forgive you.”

Amusement kicked the corners of my mouth up. “Why?

Because you’re enjoying yourself too much?” “Because I don’t know how to salsa.”

“You’re doing just fine, Luna.” I pulled her back in, one hand molding to the curve of her lower back while the other guided us through the music. “Not everything you do has to be perfect. Remember our dance lessons in Spain? Just let go and have fun.”

We were at an underground salsa club in Greenwich Village. The clientele ranged from beginners to professional dancers who’d won world competitions. That was the beauty of the club. Everyone was welcome, and no one judged.

We’d arrived two hours ago, and with Jose Cuervo’s help, I’d coaxed Sloane into joining me on the dance floor. She’d relaxed enough to follow my lead, but not enough to fully immerse herself in our surroundings.

“Our dance lessons.” Sloane tipped her chin up to look at me. Exertion flushed her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled in a way that made my heart hurt. I knew she was guarded, but I hadn’t realized how much until she let those guards down. “I barely remember them.”

“Well, now I’m hurt. After all the effort I put in, you don’t remember? Next time, just lie to me.” I spun us lazily toward the edge of the room. It was a small club, which meant there weren’t many pockets of free space, but I wanted Sloane to myself as much as possible.

“That’s not what I meant, you big baby. I meant Spain feels like a lifetime ago, and…” A hitch cut into her breath when I slid a leisurely hand up her spine.

“And?” I prompted.