Till It Happens To You | q. grimes

006

Miles laughed a little at the question, "Yeah, okay. I'm done."

"Thank you," Quentin mumbled, "Finally."

An hour and forty minutes later, Quentin couldn't decide when he had hit a new personal low.

It could be last Thursday night watching Anjali break into an almost run trying to get away from him, or immediately after when he had received pity looks from the restaurant patrons sitting around him as Quentin packed up her food, or frankly, it could be right now, sitting in the lobby with the bagged takeout box knotted up in his least dominant hand as an excuse, trying not to feel as much of a jackass as he looked, waiting for her.

The rest of the sleek and minimalist lobby was empty except for the young receptionist who was sitting behind the tall wooden desk, his fingers typing away.

Quentin anxiously pulled at his curls a little as he leaned back into one of the black couches placed intentionally in the middle of the lobby.

"The hell am I doing?" He muttered, "She's probably already upstairs." The man stood up, about to reach for the opaque plastic bag still settled on the furniture when a tug at his joggers made him straighten up.

"Who?" Quentin muttered as he looked around the seemingly still space around him.

"Down here." A child's voice beckoned to him and Quentin continued to lower his eyes until they settled upon a little boy who appeared to be six or seven years old, with dark sepia-colored skin, matching eyes, and light brown ringletted curls that grew up and outward.

"Um, what's up young king?" Quentin asked and looked around once more, "Where's your mom?"

The boy looked him up and down, taking Quentin in, "You play for the Knicks right?"

At the recognition, Quentin smiled, "Yeah. You like the Knicks?"

"Yeah!" The little boy cheered, "Me and my tata watch the Knicks all the time. I wanna be a basketball-."

"Samson Rajah Gutierrez!" Anjali's voice sounded from the automatic entry doors, the clack of high heels accompanying the anger in her tone that matched the expression on her face. The little boy shrank a little, cowering halfway behind Quentin's leg, "Uh oh..."

When Anjali finally reached the man and the young boy, she snatched the little boy to her by his hand, "Don't ever run away from me again, do you hear me?"

"I'm sorry, mommy," The boy said, his face askew with remorse.

Mommy?

As in...

But she's too young to be a mom.

Right?

Anjali sighed before brushing back a few strands of hair that had fallen from the claw clip holding her raven hair, "It's okay. Just promise me you won't do it anymore, okay?" She held up a pinky and the kid rocked back and forth twice on his heels and then linked fingers with her.

Anjali glanced up at where Quentin was still standing before them and her smile immediately dissipated, "Oh, hell."

"Can we talk?," Quentin stated before passing her the plastic bag and Samson's eyes flitted back and forth between the two adults, "Mom, you know someone on the Knicks?"

"Sammy," Anjali dug in her purse and withdrew a set of keys with her free hand, "Go up to the apartment and start your homework."

"But Mom-."

"Now, kanna." Anjali's stern voice had returned, forcing the young boy to heed her words.

Once the two were alone, Anjali rose to her full height and released a tired sigh, raising her eyes to Quentin's. He nodded to the elevator where her son had disappeared, "Cute kid."

At the compliment, Anjali's eyes narrowed for a flash, "Thanks but let's just get whatever you wanna talk about out of the way. I don't wanna leave my son home alone for too long."

Quentin gave a curt nod, "Did I do or say something on the date that made you-."

"Wasn't a date," Anjali interrupted, "And no. I just realized that there wasn't any point in me staying there. Even if I'm interested in dating right now, and I'm not, I don't think that you and I are compatible."

The movement of her full lips drew Quentin's gaze down to her mouth and almost like she was a magnet, he could feel himself being pulled forward until Quentin was invading Anjali's personal space, his covered abdomen lightly connecting with the material of her dark blue dress.

Quentin leaned forward until his mouth was close to her ear and Anjali's breath hitched, filling him with satisfaction, "Don't know until you try, Tink."

Anjali pressed a manicured hand to his toned stomach, pressing Quentin back a few inches. He lifted her hand from his shirt and laced their fingers together for a moment before Anjali pulled away completely, stepping around him and heading to the elevator.

"I'll see you around?" Quentin called behind her.

Anjali lifted one hand without turning around, the snap of her heels echoing and Quentin's smile grew bigger as she walked into the elevator, her back still towards him.

Quentin smirked at the closing elevator doors, shook his head, and headed for the stairs.

There was definitely something he liked about her.

Something he wanted to try and keep for himself.

NOTE FROM KY
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