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by Noelle Voss
Brooklyn, August. The kind of heat that makes walls sweat and tempers snap. At 1:13 a.m., building super Zara Voss is already losing the battle — ceiling dripping, toolbox soaking, and her handwritten list of “Boundaries I Won’t Cross Again” dissolving into pulp on the kitchen table. The last thing she needs is her infuriating new upstairs tenant pounding on her door.
Declan Mara is precise, relentless, and absolutely furious about his flooded bathroom. He is also, as of thirty seconds ago, apparently her boyfriend — because when their sleazy landlord shows up slinging innuendo and hunting for reasons to make Declan’s life hell, Declan grabs Zara’s hand and improvises. And Zara, who has spent years keeping everyone at a careful, sarcastic distance, steps into the lie like she was born for it.
One fake-couple performance. One overheated galley kitchen. One oscillating fan doing absolutely nothing. Somewhere between mopping up water and trading confessions about fires and fear and all the moments they both chose to freeze, the line between the act and the truth starts to blur dangerously.
Did this story work for you?
Did this story work for you?
Inspired by After Dark
Choose the trope, heat, characters and ending. No creation experience needed.