Olivia
"Or what?" the blonde challenged, crossing her arms. "You'll throw your happy hour cocktails at us?"
"Don't tempt me," Emilia growled, taking a half-step forward.
The first woman smirked. "We're just trying to save your friend some heartbreak. Alexander Carter has a type, you know. Pretty, naive, easily manipulated."
"I am not easily manipulated," I snapped, my hands balling into fists.
"That's exactly what someone easily manipulated would say," the blonde replied with fake sympathy.
Ariana moved closer to me. "Look, we don't know who you are, and frankly, we don't care. But you've ruined our night and my friend's top, so please just go."
"Make us," the first woman challenged, lifting her chin.
Before any of us could respond, a familiar deep voice cut through the tension.
"
