Delicate

Chapter 39

HAVEN MCQUEEN

"I don't even fucking understand how we're having this argument right now," I stand from Harry's kitchen table to rinse only my plate, not his.

"Haven, she invited both of us, not just me," he reminds me for the hundredth time as if that makes a difference. "She specifically said 'Please bring Haven', I can show you the text–"

"I don't wanna see the fucking text!" I lose my temper, which I was otherwise keeping in check for the most part. "I don't wanna go to her birthday party and I cannot fucking believe you're even asking me to do that."

He stands too but his breakfast remains on the table. "She's my friend, Haven. I've known her for years, longer than–"

"Longer than what?" I cross my arms over my chest. "Longer than you've known me?"

"I wasn't going to say that," he partially groans. "You're always fucking putting words in my mouth when it's convenient for you."

"Oh, am I always doing that?" I scoff and turn to head upstairs.

"I was going to say that I've known her longer than a lot of people I'm friends with now, and we've always gone to each other's birthdays. It doesn't make sense for me to stop going just because I have a girlfriend now."

"It does if your girlfriend fucking hates her," I retort, though that's an incredibly strong word. I don't know her well enough to hate her, but I don't want to know her well enough to like her.

"Why do you hate her? You don't even know her."

I turn with my hands on my waist, blinking at him and trying to calm down. "Tell me why you like her so much and why you can't just let it go."

"For the last time, she's a long-time friend of mine," he speaks slowly like I'm stupid, so I return the favor as I lean over just slightly.

"You're forgetting about the part where you dated and fucked her on a fucking yacht for the whole world to see, Harry."

"I don't even think about that anymore, Haven!" He throws his arms up and lets them slap down by his sides. "You think about it more than anyone else!"

"That's because she keeps showing up! I wouldn't have to keep thinking about it if she wasn't fucking everywhere all the goddamn time!"

"For fuck's sake," he exhales a controlled breath and rubs his eyes in exasperation.

"Why can't you just do this one thing for me and stop seeing her?" I ask more calmly. "I don't understand why you can't respect my wishes on it."

"Because where does it end? We're supposed to be able to trust each other, not manipulate each other and be controlling over who we are and aren't allowed to see."

"You look me in the eyes right now and tell me that if I had a famous male model ex-boyfriend, and he was coming around all the time, you'd be okay with that. Tell me you'd be okay with going to celebrate his birthday as long as he invited both of us, like that fucking makes a difference."

"Fine," he nearly cuts me off. "You want me to text her right now and tell her that we can never speak again because my girlfriend doesn't like her? Then fine. Whatever you want, Haven."

"Don't fucking do that," I mutter bitterly as I grab my clothes out of his dresser to get dressed for the day. "Don't make me sound like I'm being unreasonable."

"You're being a spoiled brat, that's what you're being."

My eyes widen as a result of my brows shooting up into my forehead. "Excuse me?"