Page 23 of Grace on the Rocks

He rolled his eyes.WhatwouldGrandadMacthink of his predicament?

The old man would probably find the whole situation hilarious.

Dragging himself out of bed,Bryanpadded to the kitchen in his joggers without stopping to pull on a shirt.There, he found theAmericanholding her phone as a flashlight while she rifled through a stack of papers on the counter.

“If you’re a robber, you’re terrible at it and there’s nothing to nick,” he said, making her jump.

She whirled on him with what looked like an apology on her lips until she took in his naked torso and not-quite-as-defined-as-they-once-were abs.

“I didn’t take you for a light sleeper,” she said, and out of habit he tossed her a lascivious grin.

“You’ve thought about me sssleeping?” he teased, immediately regretting his word choice because the accidental sibilance turned it extra creepy.

She shot him an ice-cold glare, making him cross his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“I was looking for theWi-Fipassword.Itried to guess, butRyanMacNeilLivesHeredidn’t work.”

Bryan hated hearing her use that name, but he didn’t want to get into it tonight. “Wi-Fi?Attwo in the morning?”

“It’s only nine p.m. at home.What’syour excuse?”

“A very large kitchen mouse,” he said.

She pursed her lips. “Areyou calling me fat?”

That was not what he’d meant at all.Whydid everything get twisted about as the words traveled from his brain to his mouth? “Tall.”

She leaned her head skeptically to the side, because at her height, no one had probably ever called her tall in her life.

“For a mouse,” he explained.

She kept glaring, so he turned to the fridge, whereCaithad left the password under a bumblebee magnet.Hehanded it over in a gesture of truce, trying not to notice the distracting way bits of her hair fell down from the messy pile at the top of her head, framing her face.

“Is it fast enough to stream?” she asked, waving her phone.

“Couldn’t tell you.Wi-Fihardly existed whenIleft home.”

Her eyes crinkled. “God, that makes you sound ancient,” she said in a tone which included herself in the ancient crowd.

“Makes me feel ancient,” he agreed. “HotFaceTimedate?”

She rolled her eyes. “Soccergame.Sorry,football,” she corrected dramatically. “It’sa stupid superstition, butIdon’t like to miss a match.”

Bryan nodded. “Iget it.”Itwas sweet, actually—little sister watching her brother’s games from half a world away.Itwas also the perfect opening to tell her he knewDiego.Heshould tell her.Hehad to tell her.

He turned on theTVand navigated to download and log into the app she would need.

“Oh,Ishould probably—” she said, reaching for the remote, but he put in his details and theMLSgames came up.Shecocked her head in surprise.

“Galaxy?” he asked, turning on the pre-game.

“How did you?—?”

“Rios?He’syour brother, aye?Diego?”

She tilted her head again, blinking, clearly tired as her mind tried to catch up. “Youremember him fromCeltic?Or… did you know him?ThroughTeàrlach?”

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