QUOTE : I happened to look over and found Amos leaning against the counter, looking way too introspective.<br /><br />“What?” I asked him, popping the tab on my own soda and taking a sip.<br /><br />The boy shook his head.<br /><br />“You can tell me anything, Little Sting, and I can tell you want to.”<br /><br />That seemed to be enough for him. “Are you flirting with my dad?” he straight-up asked.<br /><br />I almost spit the soda out. “No…?”<br /><br />He blinked. “No?”<br /><br />“Maybe?”<br /><br />Amos raised an eyebrow.<br /><br />It was my turn to blink. “Yes, okay. Yes. But I flirt with everyone. Men and women. Children. You should see me around pets. I used to have a fish, and I sweet-talked her too. Her name was Gretchen Wiener. I miss her.” She had passed away a few years ago, but I still thought about her from time to time. She’d been a good travel companion. Not fussy at all.<br /><br />That had the teenager’s cheeks going puffy for a second.<br /><br />He fucking liked me. I knew it.<br /><br />“Does it bother you if I flirt with your dad?” I paused. “Would it bother you if I liked him?” That wasn’t the best word to describe it, but it was the simplest.<br /><br />That got him to scoff. “No! I’m sixteen not five.”<br /><br />“But you’re still his wittle baby, Am. And my feelings won’t be hurt”—that was a lie, they would be—“if you weren’t okay with it. You’re my friend too. Just like your dad. I don’t want to make things weird.”<br /><br />The kid gave me a disgusted expression that made me laugh. “I don’t care. We already talked about it anyway.”<br /><br />“You did?