Ninety-four degrees at midnight, a dying air conditioner, and the human embodiment of a car alarm living next door. Dylan is a brand designer who thrives on order, structure, and quiet. He communicates in pristine, lawyer-like texts and handles conflict by hiding behind a strictly guarded wall. He has spent two years shrinking himself to fit inside what’s convenient, and the last thing he needs is a chaotic neighbor shattering his peace. Rafael is a broad-shouldered line cook who runs on heat, charm, and pure sensory overload. He weaponizes slammed doors, plays reggaeton at one a.m., and uses his loud, "human sunshine" broadcast to keep the world from looking too close at his own empty spaces. They’ve been locked in a petty, deranged apartment war since May. Then the historic heat dome over the city triggers a massive grid failure, plunging their block into total darkness. Except for a strange building anomaly: Rafa’s bedroom window unit is the only one still running off a commercial circuit. With Dylan’s apartment turning into a pizza oven, a fragile truce is negotiated. The terms? One cold room. Cold beer. Two mattresses spaced exactly four feet apart. But as the temperature rises outside, the distance between them begins to dissolve. Forced proximity turns late-night arguments into intense verbal sparring, and soon, a deep, uncontained heat takes over. In the pitch-black of a broken city, they are forced to stop playing the game of casual convenience and face the scariest item on the menu: wanting each other out loud. Heatwave Neighbors is a high-heat, open-door M/M contemporary romance novella featuring a grumpy/sunshine pairing, forced proximity, delicious banter, and a found-family restaurant crew. Safe HEA guaranteed.
