Marcus’ POV
I shift from foot to foot as I stand awkwardly on the doorstep of Rory’s apartment that she shares with her best friend Margot. I haven’t managed to see her at all today, what with the morning practice that had Kane running sprints until his legs gave out, tape reviews of the away games with the team to see where we could improve, and a stint in the gym with Dalton and Tank, I’ve hardly had time to scratch my ass.
A couple of times I picked up my cell to send her a message, but I hesitated because, honestly, a text isn’t going to cut it. I need to see my woman, get my hands and my lips on her which is why I’m outside of her duplex at eight o’clock at night, uninvited holding a bottle of wine and praying she’s as desperate to see me as I am to see her.
‘She won’t open the doo
