Scott Sherman - First You Fall

Dark skin and dark eyes. Italian or Latino. Built like a tank.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” I answered.

“Pretty crazy family you got dere.” His accent was pure Brooklyn.

I laughed. “Yeah, wel, they’re the only one I have.”

“So tel me, cutie,” he yel ed up. “Think I could get you to throw down your golden locks, too?”

It was tempting. God knows I deserved something fun after the day I had. “It’s not a good time,” I said.

He pointed to my cheek. “I can see that.”

I chuckled. “Believe it or not, that’s the least of my problems.”

“Sounds like you could use a good massage.” He winked, grinning at the obvious lasciviousness of his suggestion.

That sounded good. “Some other time?”

“Real y?” he said. He grinned ear to ear. Damn, he was cute.

I realized I spent the past few years waiting for Tony or having sex for money.

It had been a long time since I dated an attractive boy just for the sake of a date.

“Sure,” I said, reassuring him as much as me. “I’d like that.”

“One second,” he said. With a great leap, he jumped up and launched himself onto the railing of the fire escape. He pul ed himself up to the first floor landing. “I’l be right dere.”

Monkey-like, he climbed the metal structure, displaying a natural grace and limberness that belied his muscular build. In a minute, he was standing by my window.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.” Up close, he was a total snack. “That was pretty slick.”

“Wel.” He cocked his head, “I’m a pretty slick guy.”

“I’m Kevin,” I said.

“Romeo,” he put out his hand.

“You’re kidding.”

“What?”

“You just climbed onto my ‘balcony’ and your name is ‘Romeo?’”

He shrugged. “That’s what they cal ed me. Romeo Raul Romero.”

I bit my tongue. “That’s quite a name.”

“Yeah, my parents real y had a hard-on for de letter R, huh?”

I smiled. “It’s a very handsome name, Romeo. It fits you.”

“Ya think?” He leaned in closer.

“Uh-huh.” I leaned in a little, too.

Romeo planted one on my lips.

In the movie Norma Rae, Sal y Fields is being pursued by an unattractive but intriguingly-Semitic liberal activist played by Ron Leibman. Just in case his every characteristic and frequent use of Yiddish wasn’t enough to let you know he was Jewish, they saddled him with the name Reuben Warshowsky.

In any case, at one point Rueben expresses his sexual interest in her. She kisses him, explaining that if the kiss is good, the rest wil fol ow.

If she was right, then Romeo was real y, real y good.

I know, it seems crazy that after the day I’d just had I’d be standing by my window under a ful moon being kissed by a beautiful stranger who scaled my fire escape. But on the other hand, would I ever get a better excuse for acting a little crazy?

You know what they say: When God closes a door, he opens a window.

I just happened to be kissing a dark-skinned boy with biceps the size of my thighs through that window right now.

I pul ed away. “That was nice.”

Romeo raised his eyebrows. “It gets better.”

“I bet. One second.” I got a pad and pencil. “Can I have your number?”

He wrote it down for me.

“OK, Romeo,” I said, “I have to crash.”

“If you don’t cal,” he warned, “I’m gonna be back out here in a white suit with flowers and a limo. And I’m gonna sing. If that’s what it takes.”

“How’s your singing?”

“My kissing’s better.”

I smiled. “Next time. Maybe I’l even let you use the front door.”

His face grew serious. He put his hand on my cheek. “Did a guy do this to you? Cause I’l fuck him up if you want me to.”

“No.” I told him the lie about the stranger on the street.

“A cute little guy like you needs some protection,”

Romeo told me. “I wouldn’t mind looking out for you.

If you wanted me to, dat is.”

“I take pretty good care of myself,” I said. “But I can always use a friend.”

Romeo extended his hand. “Friends, then. At least to start.”

“Friends.” We shook hands.

“OK,” I said, pushing him back. “I’l cal you.”

Romeo leapt up, grabbing a rung on the fire escape above me. He showed off with an effortless pul — up.

“I’l be waiting,” he said. He dropped back down, and ran down the fire escape, jumping off the last landing and landing cat-like on the pavement.

“Good night, cute Kevin,” he cal ed.

I waved goodbye and closed the window.

I cal ed Freddy and told him about my parents’ reconciliation and my flirtation with Romeo.

“Wow,” said Freddy. “That could be two times in one month you get laid without getting paid.”

“Ha ha,” I said, thinking that counting my last encounter with Marc Wilgus, it would actual y be three.

“No, I think that’s great. You have to wash that cop right out of your hair, darling. Ow! Watch the teeth!”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing, I was just saying that you’ve already gotten over Tony once. Just move on.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” I said more confidently than I felt.

“That’s my boy. I’m very proud of-hey, what did I tel you about those teeth?”

“Umm, do you by any chance have someone there?”

“The boy from the coffee shop tonight,” Freddy said. “I think he’s part vampire.” I heard a muffled defense in the background.

“No, dear, those aren’t ‘love bites,’” Freddy said to his guest. “Love bites don’t break the skin. And it’s too hot to wear a turtleneck, so watch the hickeys, too. Mmm, that’s better.” To me: “So, what’s your next move.”

“Why don’t we talk tomorrow?” I said. “I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Darling, don’t be sil y. You know you always come first.” I heard the muffled voice again.

“Fine,” Freddy said to his guest. “Yes, you did get to come first. Now, be a good boy and get me a glass of water and maybe I’l let you come third, too.”

I heard Trick Boy walking away. “Is he any good?”

Freddy whispered, “Not bad. A little quick on the trigger, but I bet he’s got a lot more left in him. What I don’t understand is, if you final y got rid of your mother, why didn’t you have Hamlet…”

“Romeo.”

“Whatever. Why didn’t you have Romeo in for some hot man on man action? Most guys have to spend a few hours on an Internet chat line to have a sexy construction worker show up at their window.

And then he turns out to be a skinny accountant wearing brand new boots and a toy tool belt. As if that was going to fool me-I mean, someone. You had the real thing in the al — too-present flesh.”

“I’m thinking of maybe going out on a date with him first.”

“Kevin Connor on a date!” Freddy shouted. Oy, hold on, I think the earth just started spinning in the opposite direction.”

“Yeah, wel, don’t get too excited,” I said. “I’m just thinking about it.”

“Wel, it’s a good start. What about Michael Harrington? Any thoughts?”

“No, I’m waiting to hear from that computer guy I was tel ing you about, Marc Wilgus. Hey, wait a minute, he IMed me this morning on my way out the door. Let me cal him.”

“Go for it, Nancy Drew. Cal me in the morning.”

I cal ed Marc. “Can you come over?” he asked. “I’d like to tel you in person what I found out.”

I was incredibly tired. “Is it important?”

“Crucial.”

“Sure,” I said. “Give me twenty minutes.”

Fifteen minutes later, the doorman let me in. I took the elevator to Marc’s expansive penthouse apartment.