“What the hell is wrong with you? How could you do that to her?” Eric strode across the room, grabbing his slacks with an angry jerk.
Staring at the ceiling, Kell sighed. He should just fucking walk out, like he’d promised. Opening the door and leaving would be the kindest thing he could do because hoping that he could share a woman with his friends had been a horrible mistake. He’d ruined everything, and they would never forgive him. He’d already learned the hard way that a man didn’t get second chances.
The door was right there. No one was guarding it. Eric still stumbled his way into his slacks, and Tate stood on the other side of the suite, pressed to the bathroom door, trying to coax Belle out.
None of this nightmare would be happening if he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking he could just fuck her without feeling anything or screwing the whole situation up.
Still, Kell couldn’t bring himself to go. He owed her an apology at least. “I can’t.”
Eric walked across the room, face red, teeth gritted. “Can’t what?” he snarled. “Act like a human being? Do you know what you just did to her?”
Taken all her sweetly blooming sensuality and crushed it under his loafer? Yeah, he knew he’d done that. “I can’t be with a fucking virgin, man. What the hell would I do with her?”
God, that had come out completely wrong. He sounded like the worst kind of asshole douchebag, even to his own ears. But as soon as Belle blurted that she was glad she’d waited, his stomach had done a tailspin. She would need so much more than he could give her—love, attention, devotion. She deserved all that and more. She’d waited for a man who could love her, not just a man who could fuck her all night long.
She needed a man who would move mountains or part the sea for her, fight off demons, and fill her heart—do anything for her.
The realization physically hurt him, but Kell knew he wasn’t that man. He never would be.
“You can’t be with a virgin? Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Eric’s cheeks mottled even more. “You treated her like she has some dreaded disease.”
“Belle?” Tate knocked on the bathroom door. “Baby, answer me. I can hear you crying. Talk to me. Let me hold you.”
At least Tate was preoccupied.
“You knew I wouldn’t get serious with her. Hell, you said I didn’t have to when you invited me to join this party,” Kell pointed out.
He’d told Belle he wouldn’t make a good boyfriend—and he’d been right. He had also made it clear to Eric and Tate that he couldn’t commit. They knew his past. Yeah, he could have handled his shock about her virginity better. He regretted hurting her. But how could any of them think for a second that Annabelle Wright would—or should—accept what little he could offer? She hadn’t waited all these years for a lover who could get her off. No, she’d waited for lace and monogrammed towels. She’d waited for love.
Kellan shuddered. He hadn’t been enough for his bitch of a wife. She’d walked out and utterly destroyed his world, his family, and his heart. She’d proven that he wasn’t enough of a husband for the average woman. Belle was anything but average.
But the idea of never holding her in his arms made something in his chest buckle violently. Fuck. He was dying inside and he had no idea what to do. Kell ached to walk to that bathroom door and kick it open, insist that she never lock him out again—but he didn’t have that right. He would never have that right with her.
No denying that if he had dreamed up his perfect submissive, Annabelle would fit the bill. She nurtured. She cared. Smart, funny, loyal, sassy… Hell, who was he kidding? Even if she’d slept with a hundred men, she would be far too good for him. But the reverent way she’d said it—I’m so glad I waited—had gutted him. He’d spoken without thinking. Now that would cost him not just the woman he wanted above all others, but his two best friends as well.
Tate stormed over, every muscle in his body tight with fury. “I can’t get her to come out or speak. You made this mess. You go talk to her and apologize. You clean up this shit and make it right.”
Before his pal even finished speaking, Kell began shaking his head. The minute he saw her again, he just might go down on his knees and beg her to take him back. He might offer her everything he couldn’t deliver because he was too weak to walk away. That would lead to a nuclear disaster for Belle’s heart. He wouldn’t do it to her. Better to find the fucking strength now to walk away.
How the hell was he supposed to even work with her? He couldn’t anymore. And if Eric and Tate couldn’t coax Belle back to their side, they wouldn’t want to share a business with him anyway. Goddamn it, he had to leave and lose another family. This time he wouldn’t find a replacement. He would be alone, the way he deserved to be.
“I’m sorry,” he said tightly. “But I can’t do this. You understand that if you take Belle’s virginity, you’re responsible for her? She waited twenty-six fucking years. She’s not going to be content with a damn one-night stand.”
“Good!” Tate hollered back. “I don’t want to fuck and run. I want a wife, a family, a future that doesn’t include going to a bar and picking up a girl eager for the thrill of banging three guys.”
“Good for you. I can’t be responsible for Belle. I’ll only destroy her.”
“You’re protecting yourself,” Eric growled. “Not her. You’re just too fucking afraid to put your little heart out there again.”