This book was tender and heart wrenching and lovely. Seeing Nick and Andy fall in love was beautiful. Seeing them grapple with the realities of being queer in the 1950’s was heartbreaking. So much of what we have now is because of the activism, advocacy and bravery of folks living at that time, and beyond.
My favorite moment may have been when Nick dropped his nephew off and heard his mom talking to someone on the phone about a recipe. I just knew it was Andy, and what a lovely thing it was.
There’s brief mentions of period typical homophobia and violence, but nothing that gets too graphic, which I appreciated.

It's still early in the year, but I've got the feeling this is going to be my favorite book of 2024. This story just hit all the right notes for me. It's a perfect blend of so many of the tropes I adore: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, workplace romance, mutual pining. The execution of the mix was so well done, too: the way their emotional proximity kept growing, how the closer they got the more they felt they had to hide while getting more and more open with each other. How they see certain things about each other so clearly, almost more so than they see certain things about themselves, but get hopelessly tangled with others until they get just the right nudge. How they both make each other not only happier, but better.

The characters are so alive on the page—not just Andy and Nick, but everyone who surrounds them. There was that cool feeling that the main leads were carving this bubble for themselves that was just for them two in many ways, but they wouldn't be able to do it if they weren't surrounded by other people along the way. People like Emily and her friends, but also people like Andy's father or Nick's big complicated family, despite the tumultuous relationships they had, and people like their coworkers, and all the other queer people in New York whose lives touched those only tangentially—through glances exchanged in the streets or articles in the newspapers. I'm an absolute sucker for deeply character-driven stories like this, and so many of Andy's and Nick's experiences and feelings resonated with me so much, too. From Andy's very obvious ADHD to Nick's struggled habit of concealing big parts of his identity, there was always something that made me go, "Yeah, been there."

There was also this very clear sense of place and historical period that I enjoyed a lot. So many scenes and locations were so vividly depicted that I almost felt I was watching a movie, and I'm not a super visual reader. Due to the realities of that time, there is a strong impact of period-appropriate homophobia, but in spite of it, there's a lot of queer joy and thriving to offset the angst, even if it has to happen under wraps. Especially since the wraps are coming down, what with all those small subplots about the articles or the increasing number of queer books reviewed by Nick's colleague—some of them even non-tragic.

If I had to nitpick, I could perhaps note how there were a few instances of the prose not being quite clear, or how maybe in a few places the intersections of character arcs and external plot evens could be tightened up. But I'm not in the mood to nitpick at all—I just loved the entire experience.  Honestly, I could go on and on about so many aspects of the story because it gave me All The Feels. Ultimately, it's a beautiful slice of life with so much heart, and I think I'll re-read it someday, even though there are so many books and so little time.

Sweet, heartwarming, informative. I was rooting for the characters every step of the way.

This book was perfection. It’s a historical fiction, friends to lovers book set in 1950s New York, when it was illegal and very dangerous to be queer. This couple not only has to figure out how to be in a loving relationship together but also how to break down the walls of traditional masculinity to be themselves with each other. It’s sappy and lovely and way more than I thought it was going to be!

 

Apparently, I am on a roll with choosing books that have some really high quality later-in-life bisexual realizations rep. (See my Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail review.) And I am not mad about it. But also, I actually picked up this book because between the one previous Sebastian romance I've read being great (The Queer Principles of Kitt Webb) and the fact that this one was blurbed a couple times as "for Newsies lovers" (which I *very very much* am), it seemed like a general winner. Let me spend this review trying to describe for you all the ways that that is *so* accurate. 

 

Nick Russo grew up in a rough Brooklyn neighborhood and worked hard to land himself a city reporter position with a big name newspaper. Andy Fleming is newspaper royalty, his late mother having won awards for her journalism, and his father is expecting him to take over running the newspaper he brought up from nothing. But Andy is a little bit lost and a whole lot of scattered, and struggles enough taking care of himself, much less an entire business. Despite Andy's near constant bumbling, and Nick's now-innate self-protective habit of never letting anyone close (being a gay man in the 1950s is unsafe in so many ways), they find themselves growing close in an unlikely friendship. When a personal-life situation ends with Nick offering Andy a place to stay for awhile, those feelings of friendship grow into something more, on both sides. Something beautiful and sweet, but also really fragile under the circumstances and climate. Can Nick and Andy take these feelings that they share in secret and let them exist, for real, in a shared future? 

 

Wow. I mean, I am into romance and queer romance and, obviously, Newsies, but I was still not expecting this book to go as hard as it did. I was invested. I *am* invested. I literally cannot stop thinking about these characters. I had some hesitation because, knowing this was a particularly hostile time for queer people in the US (not that current lawmakers aren't trying to take us back there or anything), but like, I feel like I need to be careful with that type of content, for my own mental health. And I generally dislike this time period anyways (like I might be the only person I know who thought Mad Men was terrible). But I am so, so glad that I went for it anyways, because I *loved* this romance. The newspaper coworker setting was a really cute starting place for this relationship. It's a realistic place for people to meet and, with the "travel" required for journalism, it gave space for a variety of locational interactions in a natural way. I thought the way Sebastian handled the situation that ended with Nick and Andy as roommates was also done really smoothly. It could have easily been forced or awkward, as far as plot development, but it wasn't at all. So good. 

 

OMG the slow burn build and tension in the relationship growth from friends to…more than friends...is exquisite. Oh my heart, and OH the emotional investment. The slow awakening Andy has, facilitated by how much easier it is to just focus on liking girls and ignoring the other part of a more fluid sexuality reality, is so perfectly developed and relatable (for me). I thought that Nick and Andy's "opposites attract" vibes were spot on too. Nick's tough exterior and sweet, protective inside (any other Newsies lovers out there read this and picture Spot Conlon, or just me?) combined fantastically with Andy's muddled exterior and internal strength (at least when it came to the people/things he cared about). Honestly, there were times where my heart almost couldn't stand the "fondness" that kept being highlighted between them. The contradictions of safety and vulnerability in relationships are perfectly portrayed here - clumsy but easy, rough but tender, exposed but safe - and the bone deep certainty they develop and hold on to in each other is everything.  

 

I want to take a moment to recognize the wonderful historical fiction depiction of queer life Sebastian built here. (Wonderful regarding her portrayal and writing, not wonderful as in "the reality was a good one.") It's an important reminder that queer people have always been here, always had to face the impossible decisions to be who they are/love who they love and safety/security. And it's also a gorgeous reminder that there’s also always been community and connection and (even if not widespread) recognition and acceptance and love and hope too. The ending does a perfect job bringing those two realities together, and allowing a circumstantial HEA for Nick and Andy, who deserve all that and more. Not everything is perfect and rosy (and there's a reminder in there that money can purchase certain levels of safety and not everyone has access to that), but the power of promise and anticipation for the potential of the future is strong. And that means something big. 

 

Look, I am devastatingly invested in this adorably hapless couple. Yes, historically the time period required haplessness (and carefully curated paranoia) for real safety reasons that are terrible. But this small fictional literary bubble burst my damn heart and I cannot. Came for the Newsies comparisons, stayed for soul-scorching friends to lovers romance. My god I could have read about these characters in a book three times this long. 

 

 

 “Even if he never does anything about it, he's still queer.” 

 

“The look is - it isn't anything Andy's ever seen before. It's almost a smile, if smiles were made of molten metal and bad intentions.” 

 

“Families might usually be bonded by blood, but maybe sometimes they're bonded by shared secrets, by a delicate mixture of caution and faith, by the conviction that hiding together is better in every way than hiding alone.” 

 

“Fear of exposure has been a constant in his life; he doesn't know how to stop being afraid any more than he knows how to stop his heart from beating. Sometimes he feels like the fear is crowding out everything else, though. He wants the good things in his life to take up the space they deserve, but he doesn't know how to go about doing that, even if it’s possible.” 

 

“Maybe the trick is to put fear in its place so it doesn't take over. [...] He can believe that the future they have is worth more than his fear, and he can do what it takes to make that future as safe and happy as possible.”