A very mature and responsible buzzkill

Dragging Chloe and Elena out of the bar was an ordeal I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

Elena, at least, was cooperative—tipsy but elegant, moving with the grace of someone who knew she had drunk just enough to be playful but not enough to lose control.

Chloe, on the other hand?

A complete menace.

She had tried to climb the DJ booth. Twice.

"Chloe, if you do not walk to the car right now, I swear I will leave you here," I threatened, my grip on her arm tightening as she dramatically draped herself over my shoulder.

"But Lyyyyydiaaaaa," she slurred, dragging out my name like a whiny child. "The music was so good, and you didn't even dance! You didn't even drink! What's the point of bringing you if you're just gonna be a—"

"Careful," I warned.

She huffed, blowing a strand of purple hair out of her face. "A—very mature and responsible buzzkill?"

Elena snorted beside me, shaking her head in amusement as she slipped into the passenger seat of my car. "Come on, Chlo, just get in. She already suffered enough tonight."

Chloe groaned dramatically but complied, flopping into the back seat with all the elegance of a tranquilized animal.

Finally, finally, we were all inside.

And then, just as I put the car in gear, Elena turned toward me, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"So."

I didn't like the tone of that so.

"Let's talk about Freya."

I groaned, head tipping back against the seat. "No. We are not talking about Freya."

Chloe perked up from the back seat, suddenly very awake. "Oooooh! Vesper? What happened? What did I miss?"

I shot Elena a glare. "Nothing happened."

Elena smirked. "Something definitely happened."

"Nothing happened."

Chloe gasped dramatically, leaning forward between the seats. "Wait, wait, wait—did she hit on you?"

I gripped the wheel tighter.

"Oh my God, she did!" Chloe howled with laughter. "Lydia, you got hit on by Freya freaking Vesper and you didn't tell me?"

"There was nothing to tell!" I snapped.

Elena, still smirking, crossed her legs leisurely. "Well, technically, she asked to buy her a drink, and Lydia shot her down in record time."

Chloe gasped again, clutching her chest like I had just stabbed her. "You rejected Freya Vesper? Are you insane?"

"Yes," Elena mused, "tragic, really. That could have been the best one-night stand of your life."

"I do not do one-night stands," I deadpanned.

Chloe groaned. "Lydia, you are criminally boring. She is the hottest woman in the country! And you just—what?—shut her down like she was some random loser?"

"Because she is a random loser," I said, eyes on the road. "A walking red flag. A self-absorbed player who flirts with anything that breathes. Not interested."

Chloe sighed dramatically. "You are so unbearable."

Elena chuckled. "It's honestly impressive."

"Thank you," I muttered dryly.

Chloe, still reeling, groaned. "Like, I knew you were cold, but damn."

Elena laughed. "Cold? No, no—she was ice. Like, 'shut down in under three seconds' ice."

"Jesus," Chloe muttered. "You didn't even give her a chance?"

"No," I said flatly.

They both groaned in unison.

For the next fifteen minutes, I was subjected to an onslaught of nonsense—Elena talking about how I needed to live a little.

 Chloe dramatically listing all the reasons why Freya was too hot to reject, and both of them bullying me about how I was destined to die alone with nothing but my spreadsheets for company.

I ignored them.

Finally, we pulled up to Chloe's place.

She stumbled out of the car, nearly tripping over her own feet. "Thanks for nothing, Lydia," she grumbled. "Could have given me a great story tonight, but nooo, you had to be a heartless—"

"Goodnight, Chloe," I said, slamming the door shut before she could finish.

Elena burst into laughter as I pulled away. "That was cruel."

"She deserved it."

By the time I pulled up to Elena's building, the teasing had mellowed into something softer.

"Thanks for driving," she said, still smirking but in a gentler way.

"You're welcome," I muttered, unlocking the doors.

She paused, glancing at me.

And then— "You are interested."

I frowned. "What?"

Her smirk returned. "Freya. You're interested. You just don't want to be."

I scoffed. "Absolutely not."

"Uh-huh."

I gave her a pointed look. "I promise you, Elena, I will never fall for a walking red flag like Freya Vesper."

"Sure," she hummed, clearly not believing me.

I rolled my eyes.

The door opened, and—of course—Carmen was waiting at the entrance.

Dressed in her usual perfectly tailored suit, arms crossed, green eyes sharp. She didn't even look surprised to see me.

Elena's grin turned positively wicked.

"Oh, babe," she purred, walking up to Carmen and wrapping her arms around her. "Guess what happened tonight?"

I groaned. "No. Don't."

Carmen quirked a brow. "Oh?"

Elena grinned up at her. "Lydia got hit on by Freya Vesper."

Carmen's brow shot up.

I groaned louder. "Elena."

Elena just beamed. "And rejected her in under three seconds."

Carmen blinked. "…Impressive."

"Right?" Elena said.

I sighed. "I hate both of you."

Elena grinned, pressing a kiss to Carmen's cheek. "Goodnight, ice queen."

I muttered something under my breath and drove off.

The drive to my apartment was quiet.

The city stretched around me, glowing with lights and motion, but inside the car, it was just me and my own thoughts.

Thirty minutes of silence.

Thirty minutes of thinking.

I exhaled slowly, drumming my fingers against the wheel.

Freya Vesper.

Smirking. Annoyingly confident. Stupidly attractive.

A red flag in every possible way.

I shook my head.

"Not happening," I muttered to myself.