Annika walked forward, her heels sinking into the plush carpet, her eyes running along the painting at the head of the bed. It looked like the Himalayas, but she wasn’t sure. This bedroom was an oasis, she realized, for an artistic, sensitive soul.

She threw her purse on the floor and flopped backward on the bed, throwing her arms out to the sides. In the quiet, she took a deep breath and turned her head to stare out at the twinkling lights of the city. It smelled good in here, like faint ocean-scented cologne and something else—something fresh and cottony, like soap and clean pajamas.

She knew she couldn’t stay here for the rest of the night, in some random stranger’s private bedroom, but this felt good. Like a little enclave, suspended in a castle. A private bubble, where no one could find her and where she didn’t have to pretend to be a grown-up with enough self-confidence to walk among snooty celebrities who didn’t want her around.

The door clicked open.

Annika scrambled up to a sitting position. The man in the doorway was dressed in straight jeans and a simple white button-down that accentuated his tanned skin and green eyes, ridges and planes hinting at the stellar anatomy underneath the fabric.

Hudson Craft.

He narrowed his eyes at her, the silence ticking on. “Oh. Um, hi,” she said finally, because it was clear he wasn’t going to speak at all. Weirdo. “What … are you doing here?” But of course, he was probably BFFs with the gazillionaire host of this party. He was Hudson fucking Craft.

“Well,” he said, closing the heavy door behind him and turning back around, a faint smile playing at his lips. “Anything I want, I guess. Seeing as how this is my bedroom.”

Annika’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. She scrambled to get off the bed, her cheeks flaming. “This … this is your place? What are you, a multimillionaire?”

Hudson leaned against the door, hands in his pockets, and chuckled. “Just bought it a month ago. And no, just a millionaire. Though I am working on the ‘multi’ part.” He gave her a boyish grin.

“Oh.” Annika stood there awkwardly. The reminder of his millionaire status drove home the feeling of failure the eviction letter had brought with it. She pushed the thought from her mind. “I swear I’m not barging in. June invited me, and she was invited by her friend Lucy, who was invited by her friend Katie—”

Hudson waved her explanation off, his eyes holding hers steadily. “I’m glad you’re here.”