chapter twenty three: the heat

**Aria's POV**

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," I croaked out, hastily wiping my mess from his chest.

Thankfully, it was just his chest. It hadn't reached the floor.

"Aria," Xander says, holding my wrist to stop my futile attempt to clean my vomit. Looking at his chest, I only managed to make it worse—little rice particles and my saliva adorned his shirt, changing its color from white to brown.

"Are you okay?" he implored. Worry etched across his face.

"Uhm, yeah, I'm good," I lied.

I was nowhere near good. I felt awful inside. If I didn't get the remaining rice out of my stomach, I might have to puke again, and this time, it wouldn't just be on his shirt; I might get it on the floor. So I needed to get to a bathroom as soon as possible.

"I just need to get to the bathroom," I told him and began running in the direction of our room. It was only a few doors away, but it felt like I was ten miles away, so I ran faster.