“You don’t understand,” Kellan shot back, obviously trying to be patient with him.
And he was sick of people’s patient attitudes as they talked down to him, too. Yes, he was socially awkward, but he wasn’t a moron. “I understand that if you let Belle go, your ex and your dad have won again.”
Kellan forced his chair back, the loud scrape filling up the quiet room. “Again, you know nothing about the situation, so it would be best if you stayed out of it. You weren’t raised the way I was. You weren’t dragged through shit by your own family.”
Tate couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling. “Yeah, man, my childhood was a blast. So was Eric’s.”
“Your father didn’t impregnate your wife,” Kellan ground out.
“And your dad didn’t lock you in a room for three days when you came home with a 92 on a test.” Everyone had their troubles. Sometimes Kellan couldn’t see past his, and Tate realized he’d been treating his pal with kid gloves. Time to take them off.
“Your dad did that?” Kellan asked, horrified.
Tate could remember how humiliating it had been. “He left me with two bottles of water and a loaf of bread and he said that was how I would have to live if I didn’t study harder. And your dad didn’t tell you that you were a worthless wimp because you pulled out of football after your second concussion led to short-term memory loss.”
Eric held up a hand. “That was my asshole dad. He was a man’s man. Men played football. Brain damage was just a minor battle scar in his book. Look, none of us had it great in the dad department. My mom has only been a good parent since she left my dad.”
“And you didn’t have to contend with two brothers who called you a moron because you snuck in a little TV time at a neighbor’s house. The brainless box rots intelligence, according to my mother. They forbid television, books that weren’t academic, and most sports. Absolutely no girls. Hell, friends were even discouraged. I didn’t really have one until I met Eric.” The awkward day in high school when he’d been assigned to force some math into the jock’s head had been the single biggest turning point in his life.
“Okay,” Kell conceded. “So we all had some form of shithead for a father.”
“But that’s the past,” Tate stressed. “I think our future is upstairs in bed by herself because we didn’t handle her right. I don’t want to be that kid stuck in a room again. I broke out of it a long time ago and I won’t go back in. Whatever cell your bitch of an ex locked you in, you need to shove the door open. Otherwise, you’re letting her trap you inside.”
Eric’s eyes went wide. “Wow, Tate. That is the most emotionally astute thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, man.”
“I can learn.” He rolled his eyes.
He’d actually worked really hard to figure out why the people he cared about did the things they did. He just wasn’t always right. In this case, though, he was dead-on.
“I think Belle needs all of us, and that means you need to stop thinking with your PTSD-damaged heart and let your dick take over, Kell. Your dick is way smarter.”
“And there it goes.” Eric shook his head. “Obviously, his emotional intelligence comes in fits and starts.”
Tate wasn’t going to apologize for being blunt. He was right. If Kell would just follow his instincts and realize how much he valued Belle, they would all be happier. “Unless you really are turned off by the virgin thing.”
Kellan growled his way. “Of course I’m not. But I don’t think I can take care of her the way she deserves. I’ve explained that. She needs a husband and a family.”
“She’ll have one. Two actually,” Eric replied.
At least one of his friends backed him up. Tate was pretty sure if Kellan managed to let go of his fear, he’d find himself in a happy place. But so far, he kept managing to overthink the situation and continually fuck it up.
“Fine. We’ll take care of Belle,” Tate offered. “You can show up just for sex.”
But it wouldn’t be just sex, he knew. Kellan would balk at the notion that making love with Belle would be therapy, though it would be. For Tate, it would be coming home. Still, Kellan needed to keep things casual because he wasn’t over the hatchet his ex and his asshole of a dad had taken to his soul. Tate would give Kell one thing: at least he’d never had to see his dad naked and doing the nasty with his girl. Come to think of it, he was pretty sure even his mom had never seen his dad naked. Tate figured he and his brothers had been conceived in some petri dish because the idea of his parents boinking didn’t compute.
His life would have been like that—sterile and void of emotion—if they’d had their way. He would have dedicated himself to solving intellectual problems without ever really understanding what life meant. It was incomplete without friendship and love. Sometimes that meant sitting around watching action movies on a Saturday night. Sometimes that meant taking stock of who and what was important to you. A million little details and moments made up a life. Eric had taught him that. In some ways, Kellan had, too. It was why he couldn’t just let the guy simply drift away. Belle came first, yes, but his friends ran a very close second.
He wanted to have it all.
“I doubt Belle is going to be interested in that kind of relationship,” Kellan hedged, though it was easy to see he was thinking about it and aching for it.
“Just come have breakfast with us.” The first step to solving any problem was developing a hypothesis, and his was that Kellan wouldn’t be able to resist if he stayed around a while longer. If he was sleeping next to Belle every night, he’d be unable to keep his distance for long.
Shit. Another problem hit him squarely between the eyes.
“Wait, guys. There are three of us. Where does number three sleep?” Tate shuddered a little. “I can’t cuddle with Eric. It’s just…no.”
He’d had a vision of sleeping next to Belle, his arms wrapped around her. He could wake up to her sweet scent and the soft feel of her skin, then roll her over and slide inside her before they were really awake. That would be damn near impossible if his best friend was in between them.