Something More Than This Read Online Free Page B

about to listen to the message, Dylan’s response pops up on my screen.
     
How did you know that? You looked it up on Google, right?
     
    I don’t even bother to answer and instead grin from ear to ear and put the phone back in my pocket. Jonathan notices and says, “What’s got you all smiley?”
    With a shrug of my shoulders, I say, “Nothing, just Dylan trying to be funny.”
    We walk to the café across the street, and since the weather is lovely for late September—a perfect not-a-cloud-in-the-sky eighty-one degrees—we opt to eat outside. Once we’ve ordered, Jonathan begins with the usual questions.
    I don’t mind his so much as Simon’s. Maybe it’s because Jonathan has always had a way of talking to me as if I wasn’t the baby sister who tagged along with her older brothers, even if that was exactly the case. And when our parents died, he easily slipped into the role of comforter and confidant rather than guardian and warden like Simon did. He’s the first person I went to when I decided to become a sports journalist, and his support of me has never faltered.
    “Nothing new to report, brother dearest,” I say before taking a bite of my cheeseburger. “Simon followed me last night, but that’s old news. Like really, really old news. Isn’t there something you can do about that for me?”
    “I’ve tried, Katy. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
    I nod while I take another bite. Jonathan looks on in disgust as I mix ketchup and mayonnaise together in the perfect concoction to dip my french fries in.
    “What? It’s delicious.” I dip one french fry in the mix and present it to him across the table. “Try it. I guarantee you won’t regret it.”
    He waves a hand dismissively at the slathered fry and shakes his head. “God, no. You know I have an aversion to mayonnaise.”
    “So what’s up with you? How’s work?” He’s a practicing divorce attorney hoping to make partner one day. He’s usually in court, so a lunch date with him is a very welcome treat.
    Jonathan wipes his mouth with a napkin before answering. “Good, good. I’ve got a new case coming up where the soon-to-be ex-wife was cheating on her husband for almost the entire time they were married.”
    “How long was that?”
    “Twelve years.”
    My mouth drops open. “Really? I mean, the entire time? Why did she bother to get married?”
    “Who knows,” Jonathan says under his breath.
    Here’s the thing with Jonathan. He’s really handsome, extremely sweet, caring, and thoughtful. He would and should make a woman very happy. But his career has tainted how he views relationships. He’d be a great catch for the right woman.
    Simon, on the other hand . . . well, who knows what’s going with his personal life. Trying to keep tabs on his dating life is harder than trying to find weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.
    “How are the Barracudas looking this year?” he asks, obviously wanting to change the subject.
    I’m glad for it, because the last thing I want is for him to ask me about any guys I’m not at all dating or could be dating at the moment.
    “Really good. I think they’re going to go all the way this year. The new coach seems to be picking up where Coach Fraser left off last year.”
    “That’ll be great for our alma mater,” he says.
    “Yeah,” I tell him. “But they’re still not as good as when you played for them.”
    Jonathan was the leading passing quarterback in the entire state of Florida in his senior year of high school. Everyone thought he would pick a football-centered college and continue to flourish at the sport. He was courted by quite a few of them, actually. But he fooled everyone by choosing academics over sports. Not me, though. I always knew that he never intended to play football past high school.
    “Thanks.” He flashes me a big smile. “I needed that.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    After we finish eating, we both make a mad dash to grab the bill at the same time. He winks and clucks