Novels by Edlyn Blessing

Zara told herself she would stop sneaking into Cade’s apartment. She told herself that what happened on the rooftop was just a one-time thing, a crazy, heat-of-the-moment mistake but like most of her promises when it came to him, it didn’t last.It had been three days since that night, and her body still hummed with the memory of him. Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel his breath on her neck, hear his laugh, see the city lights reflecting in his eyes.She tried to distract herself by doing something ordinary, like laundry.She packed her clothes, dragged her basket to the basement laundry room, and hoped the sound of washing machines would drown out her thoughts but fate, or maybe trouble, had other plans.Cade was already there.He was leaning against one of the machines, phone in hand, wearing a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants. His hair was still damp, like he had just showered. Zara froze at the door, gripping her laundry basket a little too tightly.“Really?” she mutte

Zara had never felt this restless.It was close to midnight, and she tossed from one side of the bed to the other, staring at the ceiling like it held answers she could not find. Her apartment was quiet, too quiet, and all she could hear was her own heartbeat, heavy and distracting.She knew what was wrong or rather, who was the cause of the problem.It had only been a day since she last saw Cade, but that was enough. Her body remembered too well, and her mind refused to shut him out. She hated how much power he seemed to hold without even trying. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured his smirk, his touch, the sound of his voice when it dropped lower.“Damn it,” she muttered, shoving the blanket off.She tried to convince herself to stay put, at least to wait until morning, to not give in but the thought of him a few floors away was too much to ignore. Before she could second-guess herself, she grabbed her hoodie, slipped on shorts, and tiptoed out of her apartment.The hallway

Zara told herself the stairwell was the last time. She told herself it was a moment of weakness, a slip, a mistake that she would never repeat. But the problem was that she could still taste him when she tried to sleep, still hear his low groan in the silence of her room, still feel the burn of his touch against her skin.Mistakes were supposed to leave regret. What she had was hunger.The days that followed were torture. Every time she passed him in the hallway, her heart jumped to her throat. He walked with that same arrogant ease, as though nothing had changed, but his eyes lingered on her longer, sharper, like he was daring her to admit the truth.And she hated herself for noticing.It started small. A brush of his hand against hers when they passed too close in the mailroom. A look exchanged in the elevator when other neighbors were around, both of them pretending not to feel the spark. A smirk on his lips when she flushed, and her glare in return, though it carried no weight any

Zara had promised herself she would not take the stairs again. Not after the blackout and not after almost tripping the last time she tried to prove a point by avoiding Cade in the elevator. But that evening, she could not bring herself to stand in the small metal box knowing he might walk in at any second.So, she chose the stairs.She carried her tote bag over her shoulder and walked carefully, each step echoing through the stairwell. The air was cooler than she expected, though still heavy with the faint smell of concrete and old paint. She told herself this was the smart thing to do. She would climb a few flights, get to her apartment, and not have to risk facing him.But halfway up, she heard footsteps.Zara froze, her hand clutching the railing. The steps were steady, purposeful, and coming from above. Her stomach sank when she realized who it had to be.Cade.She cursed under her breath and picked up her pace. But before she could make it to the next landing, he appeared at the

Zara had barely slept since that night in the elevator. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Cade’s mouth on hers, his hands roaming her body, the heat of his skin pressed against her own. She hated herself for remembering every detail. Worse, she hated how much she wanted more.The morning after, she found herself pausing outside her door, heart hammering, before pushing the key inside. Her first thought was relief when she realized there was nothing unusual waiting for her. But when she went into the kitchen later to grab her mail from the small pile the guard had slid under her door, something fluttered to the floor.A note.Folded neatly, her name scribbled in that annoyingly smug handwriting she would recognize anywhere.Zara froze, staring at it as if it might explode. She knew before she even touched it who had written it. Cade. Her neighbor. Her rival. The same man who had kissed her until her knees shook only hours ago.Her fingers itched to open it, but she forced herself

Cade’s answer was a nod. He looked at her directly, and for all the arrogance and the jokes and the teasing, there was a steadiness in his look that made the air in her lungs denser. He said, simply, “Agreed.”They rode the remaining floors in that state. The elevator’s small light hummed. They watched their reflections in the polished metal of the opposite wall. Their faces looked the same in the mirror as before, but also not. The traces of what had passed were visible if one looked closely: rumpled hair, a smear of lipstick at the corner of a mouth, the faint flush under the collarbones. These were small things. Small things that the world would probably not notice in a busy corridor. Yet to them, the small things felt enormous.Zara imagined a thousand scenarios of how her friends might react if they knew. Her mother would worry and lecture. Her sister would tease and then ask sharp questions. The building would gossip. The world had a nasty way of turning private mistakes into pu