Tomboy (The Hartigans #3)(42)

“Dude, everyone knows about her.” He hit pause on the music blaring from the tiny white headphones. “Didn’t you see what Harbor City Nights posted on Insta? They are total stans.”

He’d gotten a few notifications, but if the posts didn’t tag him, he had no clue what was going on. Kyle’s assistant was supposed to let him know if there was gossip swirling. “I hate social media.”

“Well, it fucking has a hard-on for you and this girl.” Stuckey scrolled through his apps and pulled up Instagram. “Look, they have a ton of posts of you two at some Mexican restaurant, and you’re looking mighty cozy.”

“Let me see that.” He snatched Stuckey’s phone.

Fucking A. The pics weren’t the best—and it was creepy as fuck that someone was taking photos while they were on a non-date and not at a public event—but there was no missing it was him and Fallon. Sure, she was in a Nurses Rock T-shirt, but there was nothing else to identify her as a nurse.

“How did you know she was a nurse?” he asked.

“I swear you live under a rock.” Stuckey took his phone back and opened Tumblr. He hit on some hockey gossip account, and he started to read the post. “We are totally #TeamZuck and so are you, looking at our polls. The question is, do you ship it more for the way our new fav hockey hottie has been playing on the ice since he met his Lady Luck, or because even Harbor City’s most-hated needs the love of a good woman? We’ve got all the deets you need to know about ER nurse Fallon Hartigan, who snagged herself Zach Blackburn and helped turn around the Ice Knights’ losing streak.”

Fallon was going to flay him alive and leave him for the buzzards. And he deserved it. All he’d wanted was to get his hockey mojo back, not force Fallon out into the court of public opinion. He knew firsthand how all those little nips and bites at the ankles could end up taking a chunk out of a person.

“Yeah, most of it’s pretty gooey, but you still don’t want your girl to look at it.” He shook his head. “Trolls, man.”

Zach glared at the other man, who still seemed totally immune to the look that sent most people scattering. “She’s not my girl and why?”

“Why isn’t she your girl?” Stuckey grinned at him, showing off every one of the dental-technician-made teeth in his mouth. “Because she obviously has taste.”

“No,” he said, trying to remain calm when he was ready to take some nameless internet troll’s head off. “Why shouldn’t she look at it?”

“Let me put it this way.” Stuckey grimaced. “My sisters are tough as shit, and some of the comments would make them cry. Lots of shit about her looks, that she needs a girl makeover.”

Zach sucked in a deep breath, trying to remember the yoga instructor’s words about the power of mindful breathing, and unpeeled his fingers from the armrest he was gripping like it was a weirdly shaped stress ball. “Bunch of assholes.”

Stuckey shrugged. “Pretty much.”

A prickly nugget of guilt burrowed into his gut. Sure, everyone in the world got used, it was the way life worked. Even though it didn’t rise to the level of what his parents did to him, what was happening to Fallon was shitty. So what in the hell did he do about it? She was his Lady Luck, and without wins on the ice, he’d be fucked, and everyone would know exactly what his parents had done and what a total chump he’d been for not seeing it. How many times had he heard his old man, his favorite uncle, coaches, and hell, just about every man he’d ever looked up to with a few exceptions reinforce that real men didn’t cry, they didn’t accept defeat, and they didn’t get made fools of—by anyone, ever. Sure, part of him knew all that was bullshit, but his reflexive reactions were what they were.

Still, there had to be something he could do to help Fallon. He needed to talk to Lucy. She’d know. As soon as he got back into town from this road trip, he’d get advice from his favorite shark in an ocean full of defenseless minnows, and everyone would come out fine. No harm. No foul. No secrets spilled.

He sat back, the pain in his stomach dulling to an ache. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

“No biggie.” Stuckey popped his earbuds back in as the plane started its taxi down the runway. “It’s what teammates do.”

Zach let his eyes close as the plane picked up speed and lifted off the runway, and a single thought crystallized in his head. Maybe it was time to stop acting like everyone was there to fuck him over. Sure, some assholes were. But Stuckey wasn’t. The trainer wanted to go to the mattress for him. Peppers was always on his side.

And Fallon? She kept her word, and he could trust that. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he did. And that was about as freaky as when he thought about the fact that he was hurtling through the sky in a metal tube.

…

Sitting between Gina and Tess for Paint and Sip night was definitely not the best place to text Zach, but if she was going to hold up her end of the bargain, she didn’t have a choice. She’d gotten off shift at the hospital with just enough time to get to Paint and Sip before Larry’s cutoff time. Another few minutes and Zach would be on the team bus heading to the arena for the game. She didn’t want to leave him hanging. So, as unobtrusively as possible, she held her phone close to her lap and shot off a quick text.

LL: You ready to kick some ass?