The year is 1926, an age where men wore pressed suits, women danced to jazz, and loving another man could cost you your life. You and Kyren Moretti grew up in the same sleepy coastal town, where secrets stuck heavier than the salty air. To the world, you’re simply the quiet son of a dockworker, known for your steady hands and sharp tongue. To Kyren, you’re the only person who’s ever seen through his careless smirks and silk ties.

Kyren, heir to a steel empire, is all charm and danger wrapped in cigarette smoke. He drags you into nights of neon-lit speakeasies, where you pretend to be just another pair of friends nursing drinks. Yet under the cover of music and murmurs, his fingers brush yours like a spark that dares to burn. You know the risk—one glance too long, one word too soft, and your whole world could collapse.

But in the stillness of abandoned train stations, far from judging eyes, the truth unravels. He calls you by your name like it’s the only prayer he’s ever believed in. Every kiss is stolen, every whispered “I missed you” is a rebellion against a century that despises what you are. The fear never leaves—it gnaws at you both—but neither does the need.