Evie's POV

"Oh my God, Mom!" I clutched my robe tighter, praying she couldn't see Ryder under the bed. "I said I wasn't decent!"

Mom stood frozen in the doorway, her perfectly styled hair and designer dress a stark contrast to my disheveled state.

Her eyes swept the room—taking in the scattered ice cubes, the rumpled sheets, the general air of... recent activity.

"I..." she started, then stopped, her cheeks flushing pink. "I knocked, sweetheart. When you didn't answer, I got ...