He headed straight for our table and very politely introduced himself to my parents, as though he hadn’t had his tongue all up in my lady business not even twelve hours ago. I could tell that my mom was immediately smitten with him. He was charming, I had to give him that. But my parents liking Oakley was not what I was actually worried about.

“Oakley, it’s so nice to meet you!” my mother said while hugging him in greeting. I noticed how she felt up his muscular back and nearly swatted her away. Down, Momma.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Oakley said, his voice like honey. “Thanks for the invite to brunch. I’m glad I could make it.” He poked me in the side, then moved to shake my father’s hand. Naturally, Dad did the macho display of power, squeezing Oakley’s palm a little harder than necessary to mark his superiority. I think everyone at the table knew Oakley could take him in a thumb war any day of the week.

“It’s nice to meet you, son,” Dad said through clenched teeth. “You play a nice game of ball.”

Oakley grinned. “Did you play?”

“I was more of a mathlete in school. Made some money on calculated bets, though.” Dad winked, and I forced myself not to roll my eyes.

“Sit, sit!” Mom said, gesturing to the chair between her and me.

Oakley waited until I was in my chair, then made sure to settle right next to me, pressing his leg against mine under the table suggestively. I kicked him away, but he didn’t move. Instead, he slipped something into my hand. I opened my hand under the table and saw the pink fabric from my panties I had left on his chair. Oh. My. Loki.

“What are you going to school for?” Dad asked.

“Business. My mother owns a few flower shops across the country. Gonna help her out once I’ve graduated.”

“Oh, I love flowers,” Mom interrupted. “Roses are my favorite. It’s the ultimate gesture of love,” she added suggestively, waggling her eyebrows. Way to go for overkill, Mom.

“I’ll be sure to have my mother send you a bouquet.” Oakley winked, and just like that, my mother was putty in his hand. Damn, he was good.

“We are just so glad we got to meet you. I follow you on Instagram, you know,” Mom said.

Oh shit. Stop talking, Mom. Oakley grabbed my knee under the table. “Oh?” he replied.

“That photo of you shirtless with the puppy on the beach was really inspiring,” Mom purred, making Dad laugh.

“That was from three years ago…” Oakley looked confused, and I wanted to hide.

“Okay! I’m hungry. Ravenous,” I said with a choked cough. “I want pancakes. Who wants pancakes?”