“I can take care of that for you, buddy.” Mason makes grabby-hands at the backpack hanging on a hook beside me. The swoop in my belly distracts me momentarily. “Uh, actually you can’t.” He frowns and lowers his arms. “Why not?” I blow out a heavy breath. “There’s no changing station in the men’s room. Chad complains about it whenever I suggest coming here.” Mason reels backward. “How can they not have one? Isn’t that illegal or something?” I snort. “That’d be a no.”
