Page 72 of Reno

“That’s cool,” Andy said. “On the concrete? Like, on your back?”

“No,” I replied, thinking of the night it happened. “He pressed me up against the glass and we did it standing up.”

“I’ve never done it standing up,” Joey said. “Is it cool?”

The afternoon sun was warm on my skin but thinking about Reno and I having sex that night was enough to make me uncomfortably hot.

“It’s pretty awesome,” I replied. “Was for me, at least.”

Andy raised her hand. “It’s awesome.”

Tegan did the same. “I’ll agree. Standing up sex is awesome.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder. “What are you guys talking about?”

Reno!

I nearly jumped from my skin. Immediately I felt guilty for talking about sidewalk sex.

“Nothing,” I blurted. “Just talking.”

“Ready to go?” he asked. “We need to get back and get this party set up.”

I gave everyone a look that I hoped they understood. “Sure.”

I bid farewell to the women and followed Reno across the parking lot. “Do men ever talk about sex?”

He spit out a laugh. “Our women, our modes of transportation, the men who disrespect us. Those are the things we talk about the most.”

“Do you tell stories about sex? Like sexual positions, and stuff?”

He hesitated and faced me. “What’s with all the questions?”

“Just wondering.”

“Yeah, we pretty much talk about it all. It’s just how men are, why? Do women talk about it, too?”

“It appears so.”

He laughed and then started walking again. “What did you offer?”

I rushed to catch up. “Huh?”

“What did you offer the conversation?”

I let out a sigh. “Sidewalk sex.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Didn’t want to tell them about bedroom sex? Wasn’t good enough for you?”

I paused, cocked my hip, and shot him an evil-eyed stare. “The bedroom sex is the best, but it’s between you and me. It’s none of their business.”

“What’s the difference between bedroom sex and sidewalk sex, in the grand scheme of things?”

I thought about it for a moment. “It’s kind of like giving something away, I guess. If something’s valuable to me, I don’t want to give it away. Telling a story is like giving something to someone. Giving them a part of your life. If something’s valuable to me—really valuable—I don’t want to share it.”

“So, the bedroom sex is valuable stuff?”

“Priceless,” I replied.