Jay Walking Read Online Free Page A

If she's going to commit to anyone, I think she's hoping Ryan is the one.
    "Actually, I'm asking Ryan, Amber. I figure he may be better qualified to answer, since he's a guy and all." I turn my chair toward him so I can read his reaction clearer, even though I remain skeptical of his opinion.
    Ryan straightens in his chair and pulls his brows in. "Well, that depends."
    "How? Either you like it or you don't." Amber interjects again, controlling the conversation as usual.  
    My blood pressure rises as I motion for her to stop interrupting. "Amber, let him talk, please."
    She widens her eyes, and I sense she's a little embarrassed I scolded her in front of Ryan. Her cheeks redden as she unscrews her water and slurps it. The bottle pops as she finishes the drink and I cringe at the noise. Can't people learn to drink from a water bottle without being so loud?  
    Ryan scoots his chair out and crosses his leg. "Well, it's one thing to be forward and ask a guy on a date. It's another to be a tramp about it."
    Amber is listening intently, probably taking notes in her head, possibly even reclaiming her long-lost virginity in her mind.
    "How do you mean?" His answer isn't clear to me.
    He rubs his hands together like he's the know-it-all on the subject. Of course, being a guy, he knows what guys like. "Okay, so if we're chatting and you touch my arm a little and casually ask me out," he touches my arm and I'm afraid to look Amber's way. "I may say yes and consider it a date. Now, on the other hand, if you hang all over me, practically groping me, I definitely won't date you." Thank God he doesn't grope me.
    "I thought guys liked that kind of thing." Amber questions her approach.
    "For a one-night stand, and that's all it would be."
    My mind flashes back to when I met Daniel. I flirted with him hard at the bar that night, and probably fit more of the groping personality Ryan explained. Not to mention, we slept together that first night. And it went on for well over a year. Once I got pregnant, and he dumped me, it took a long time for me to understand our relationship hinged on sex. I held on for months hoping for more, and whenever he wanted to get laid, I obliged. We never once went on an actual date. Ever . And when my best friend kept trying to get me to take my blinders off, I refused, thinking I was in love. I know now, after seeing what she and her husband have, I wasn't in love. I craved someone to want me, and when Daniel did, I took advantage. Rather, I let him take advantage. And I stood by him, even when he got engaged. I mean, how much stupider could I be? Now, he's married, and has his own babies. Babies . Twins. I still Facebook stalk him. Today, I commit to stop.
    "Okay, so be subtle and don't jump his bones. I can do that," I say.
    Ryan's face lights up. "Now, if you want to jump his bones, I'm sure he wouldn't mind, but don't expect a call the next day." He rubs his hands together, and I want to gag. Ryan's cute and all, but not my type.
    "If you see him again, Chelsea, you need to get his number. Or Facebook. Or Twitter. Or whatever. Find a way to contact him! You need a date for Ryan's party!"
    "Are you coming, Chels?" Ryan asks.
    "I don't know. I don't think I'll have a date."
    "Lucky for you, a date isn't a requirement to attend," he clears up.
    "I know, but-" Wait. I can't tell him Amber wants me to come with a date so she can hook up with him. She'll never forgive me if I say that to him. She wants him, badly, but is taking her time before making her move.
    "But what?"
    "But, I don't want to go alone."
    Ryan glances at his phone. "Looks like lunch is over." He stands up. "Anyway, think about it. The party's not for a few months yet, so no rush."
    Amber catches a glance at Ryan's butt as he walks out the door and someone I don't recognize from another department walks in. "So, do you think you'll ask him if you run into him again?"
    The odds of that aren't good. A chance meeting. I doubt we'll meet again. "I'm not