Rory’s POV
By the time the bus slows to a stop outside of our hotel, I have managed to grapple, a some what vague control of my over stimulated body, that still jolts with awareness every single time Marcus’ thigh presses into mine.
As soon as the bus stops, Marcus is out of his chair, hand tightly curled around my own as he tugs me to my feet, trying to get off the bus as quickly as possible.
At the front, the Boston Hawks coach rises to his feet, standing in the walkway facing us all as everyone shuffles to their feet.
‘OK boys’ he growls loudly, ‘get your s.hit and head inside, grab your keys to your rooms from reception, they are all booked under your names.
You’ve all got thirty minutes to get yourselves sorted before I expect you downstairs again.’
‘Yeah! Bar crawl!’ Kane calls
