Page 30 of All Your Reasons Why

Calling all socialites... has anyone seen party boy Mason Raker around town? Our sources say he’s been MIA. Could he have finally settled down? Or perhaps the Rovers organization gave him the ultimate ultimatum.

We all know that the hunky hockey star is approaching that dreaded age of retirement. Too bad for us. There’s just something about Mason Raker in uniform, checking his opponent, that makes us gooey all over. Could he be that dominant off the ice?

This anonymous star stalker can’t even fathom the possibility.

More pressing... could it be that some lucky lady has him swooning and settling down?

If you have the dirt, we’re paying.

10

MASON

The parking godsare smiling at me as I carefully maneuver the Bentley into the parking space in front of Rowan’s Upper East Side apartment building. I actually snagged a rare, precious spot.

Rowan is standing outside waiting for me, wearing a pair of skinny jeans with boots and an oatmeal-colored cotton cowlneck sweater. As we drift further into fall, the days are getting cooler.

This is our first unofficial meeting, the first time we aren’t hanging out because we’ve been forced to.

Definitely not a date, though. I am not dating anyone, thank you very much, and if I were, it certainly would not be Rowan Nagatronic 2000.

Rowan kept her word, contacted the hospital, and gathered the lists of things that the kids wanted. And in between my training sessions, I purchased something from every list, and also put together goody bags filled with Rovers stickers, pencils, notepads, and our stuffed mascot.

One of my gifts was on the front seat next to me ... barking.

The plan was for Rowan to call the hospital this morning and see if we’d be able to drop off all the gifts this afternoon. I am hoping we got a yes on that, because the barking gift just escaped from its puppy carrier.

“Sit, puppy,” I order him. He ignores me, of course.

Rowan stares as I roll the window down, her eyes widening in surprise. “Mason, what is this?

“It’s an Escalade. I borrowed it from Beck. Do not tell him about the D-O-G.” I grin triumphantly at the puppy Harrison requested.

It’s an adorable little golden doodle, which works perfectly because Harrison said he had allergies and needed something hypoallergenic.

Rowan rubs her forehead.

She doesn’t look delighted like she should be. She looks like she’s having a bad gas attack. That’s too bad. I like her smiles. When she flashes a genuine smile, it lights up a room and bathes everyone around her in its warmth. Come to think of it, I even like her scowls, because they make me want to mess with her and make her laugh.

“Mason, you can’t get a puppy for a kid without asking his parents.” Rowan shakes her head at me. “Especially a kid who’s in the hospital.”

“But that was the number one item on his list,” I protest. “He really, really wanted a puppy.”

“Mason, every kid in the world wants a puppy,” Rowan sighs. “Didn’t you want a puppy when you were a kid?”

I’d wanted a mom like all the other kids had.

But yeah, a puppy would’ve been nice too. My dad hated dogs and was dead set against it.

“So every kid in the world wants a puppy, so I got him a puppy ... Hey. Quit it.” The puppy is chewing on the seat belt. I scoop the puppy up in my arms, and it kisses my face and then bites my chin, which makes me laugh.

Rowan reaches through the window and scratches behind the puppy’s ear. The puppy grins at her and pants adorably.

“Well, my sister and I did have puppies when we were growing up, and they are adorable little velociraptors of destruction. The first six months of their life, at a minimum, they are basically on a kamikaze mission to destroy themselves and everything around them. They chew constantly. You can buy them all the chew toys in the world, but they’ll also chew furniture and electric wires and shoes.”

“Electric wires? Really?”

“I’m afraid so.” She nods. “You don’t know if Harrison’s family lives in an apartment or a condo where they’re not allowed to have dogs. You don’t know if they’re allergic to dogs.”

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