The Hookup (Moonlight and Motor Oil #1)(92)

Johnny didn’t let up.

“The whole situation was fucked up. So it was a totally fucked decision she made. She had no business going with him. But she felt like someone had to look after him and she was all he had. So she picked him and left me.”

“I . . . don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

“Nothing to say,” he replied. “I was pissed about it at first. Hurt and pissed. It didn’t take long to get to a place of understanding and that ended with me not being pissed, just hurt. They were tight. They had to be that way with the parents they had. She felt the bond of blood and obligation, and even if what she was doing was dangerous and downright stupid, she wasn’t strong enough to break that bond. So she went.”

“Addie’s not a criminal on the run,” she told him.

“I know that. And yeah, you saw me react to being in another situation that’s so good it’s great, it feels right, I know there’s a future in it and I want that, and I’m also in the middle of a situation with my woman’s sibling. But I didn’t lie to you then, Eliza. I get the difference and I’m cool with it. That doesn’t make me less disappointed when we’re at your place I can’t fuck you and not bite it back when I come, and I can’t listen to the sounds you make that I like a helluva lot when I touch you. That you don’t feel totally free to be with me when you want and you’re pulled another way. I know it’s selfish but this is that good. I want all of you. Right now I can’t have it. But I want it so I’ll take what I can get.”

“I like that you want all of it, I want all of it too,” she shared softly. “I just can’t give it now. Or at least, I didn’t feel I could before Addie talked to us this morning.”

“And this morning is when I realized where I was at with this. With you. With her. With Brooks. If I want to explore this with you, I have to be all in. I can’t hold back like I might in the beginning of a normal situation without any drama, testing the waters, seeing how far in I wanna get. This is no longer about building on what we got. Now, it’s about life, learning to have all that’s there to have together. And I’m all in. With you comes her. Brooks. Deanna. Charlie. With me comes Tobe. Margot. Dave. Ben and Cait, and whoever else.”

She was holding herself very still, staring at him intently, but he wasn’t quite done.

“Telling you all this isn’t about me getting burned by Shandra and still licking my wounds. Right here and now with this conversation, since I’m already all in, it’s about me having a genuine reaction to something, showing it, you internalizing that and not sharing it. I was disappointed because it’s disappointing. Life hits you with that too often. But in the end, you being close with Addie and Brooks and being there for them, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s just that I get to have the honor of doing it with you.”

“Johnny,” she whispered, wonder in her eyes now, like there’d been in her sister’s that morning.

Except it was a lot sweeter.

Still.

“Now you need to explain ‘your deal,’” he demanded.

The wonder started edging out with the panic beginning to edge back in.

“It’s just that it was you that made that decree and like I said, sometimes I need space to sort things out,” she explained.

“So you think you not talking to me about this, sitting on it, stewing on it, would have ended up all good?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately.

That was completely implausible.

“You’re telling me you’d get there on your own,” he said with clear skepticism.

“I’m telling you I’d eventually have talked to you about it when I was ready.”

“You sure about that?” he pushed.

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“Babe, women stew.”

“It’s not stewing, it’s sorting.”

“Different words, same meaning,” he returned.

“That’s not true.”

“So I know something’s on your mind and I gotta keep my mouth shut, knowing that something is bothering you, not knowing what that is, or how that could affect me, us, and wait on you to give it to me?”

“That doesn’t make it sound too good,” she murmured.

“That’s because it’s not, Eliza.”

“I’m not like that.”

“You just snapped at me.”

“You were being pushy.”

“So we could get through it and fucking enjoy a fucking TV show without anything weighing heavy on either of us.”

“I’m not like that,” she shot back. “I do talk about it. I always get it out in the end and it turns out okay when I do.”

“And you can assure me of that,” he stated.

“Of course.”

“You’re sure,” he pushed.

“Yes!”

She was snapping again, her face screwing up.

It was cute.

But he still didn’t buy it.

“And what if the sorting doesn’t go my way and I’ve had no say in that?” he asked.

“It’ll go your way,” she answered sharply.

“Right.”

“Right,” she bit out.