Aiden POV
Okay, now I fucking hate her. Hate might not even cover it. Loathe. Despise. Take your pick. She puked. Of course, she couldn't aim anywhere else. Oh no, not this girl. She had to unleash her stomach's contents on me—ME—like I was her personal barf bag. Lucky for her, it missed my sweet ride, though that's hardly a consolation. I mean, seriously? Who even drinks that much when they know they can't handle it?
Great. Just great. I stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. The stench hit me first, and then the wet, sticky sensation seeped into my clothes.
She didn't puke on my car. Oh no, she aimed directly at me.
"Unbelievable," I muttered through gritted teeth, staring down at the mess now adorning my suit. This was Armani. Custom-tailored. And now it was… ruined.
