About Kismet

34

Thursday, April 25 2019

Nothing had happened after the night of their dinner with the Knightons, because Kismet had flown to Ontario the day after. Wesley had decided to stay back a couple of days, so they both took separate return flights.

He was landing today at 6:00 PM, and Kismet remembered arranging with Matt to pick Wesley up from the airport after work.

She was currently in the room where her next appointment was scheduled. It would be her first physical session with Micah today, where they would begin his physiotherapy plan.

Kismet had turned her back to the door to go over the specifics of their session when Micah walked through the door. He cleared his throat lightly, leaning his weight on one of his crutches as he waited for her to register his presence.

Kismet quickly turned around, an infectious smile gracing her features. "Hi Xander, how are you feeling?" She had caught herself from using 'Micah' to address him, remembering his preference.

Micah nodded to her in greeting. "I'm okay, Doctor. Thank you." He wasn't conversational, and despite feeling comforted in her presence, it simply wasn't in his nature to engage in small talk.

"Good. Let's get started," she replied with ease, helping him maneuver onto the seated equipment and taking his crutches to place to the side.

Kismet instructed and guided Micah throughout the session, careful to avoid physical contact unless initiated by him. She was well aware of his history and the physical and emotional scars it left him with.

By the time the session had concluded, Micah had grown adjusted to her methods and was able to complete most of the stretches and exercises with practiced ease. Kismet noted the look of lingering discomfort when he attempted the last movement, and quickly intervened.

"That's all we're doing for today," she exclaimed, watching as his relieved gaze met hers. He gave her an appreciative look and she smiled in return. Discovering the limits of her patients was a strong suit of hers.

Kismet wrapped up their session after that, walking with Micah as he made his way to the exit. She parted from him with a wave when the physician's lounge came into view, hurrying up her movements when she noticed the time.

She had less than an hour to drive to the airport through the Toronto traffic. She shrugged on the black letterman jacket that she had left hanging in her locker and did a quick shoe change, the black Docs complimenting the wide-legged Levi's that hugged her ass just right.

She was quick to stuff her phone, keys and wallet into her pockets, making her way out of the building in record time.

As she got into her car, she synced her phone to the Bluetooth system, checking for any texts from Matt that would indicate if Wesley had landed. Matt had childishly wanted Kismet to surprise Wesley and refused to let Kismet clue him in and ruin the surprise. With a sigh of complacent relief at the lack of texts, she turned out of the parking lot, forcing her way into the sea of cars.

—

Wesley's plane landed a couple of minutes ahead of schedule with few people having accompanied him on the flight, so the process of offboarding was not nearly as long as it should have been.

He was grateful, however, as he bid goodbye to the air hostess and walked through the tunnel towards the airport's designated zone for incoming domestic flights.

He bypassed the luggage belt because his carry-on was the only piece of baggage he had with him, walking out the main exit doors. He was hit with a gust of late April wind and shifted so his back shielded him. Pulling out his phone, he dialled Matt to check where he was parked.

The ring went through for a minute, before he reached his voicemail. Wesley furrowed his brows at the phone, but the frown disappeared as Matt called back. He picked up right away, holding the phone to his ear.

"Hey, man. Where are you parked?" He heard some shuffling on the other end of the phone before Matt replied, "Uhh, I'm by terminal 32... yeah, 32. See you, mate," he said hurriedly.

Wesley was met with the dial tone, and his brows drew together once more. He shrugged it off in a boyish manner, dismissing Matthew's behaviour as he began walking towards the terminal.

Kismet sent Matthew a thumbs-up message and watched with poorly disguised giddiness as Wesley drew closer to where she was parked. As he reached the terminal gate, she got out of the car and rounded to the other side.

She watched as his confused gaze landed on her and his eyes widened, face splitting into a contagious grin a moment later as he began walking towards her.

"Hey stranger," she greeted from where she stood on the platform, giving him a sheepish wave.

"Don't hey me," he replied, eyes narrowed but amusement dancing within them. He tugged her into a warm hug, eliciting a faint blush on Kismet's cheeks as she hugged him back.

He pulled away to look at her accusingly, "Did you and Bradshaw plan this?"

She shook her head, "No, I swear. It was just him. I was going to let you know of the change of plans but Matt wanted to keep it a surprise," she defended.

Wesley met her stubborn gaze unconvincingly, raising a challenging eyebrow, to which she protested in her defence once again.

Deciding she was going to continue to fight for herself, he drew a lazy arm around her shoulders and began to guide her towards her car as she continued to reiterate the events of the last few days.

He pulled open the door to the driver's side, giving her a gentle shove into the car. She glared at him without malice, grumbling like a petty child as she strapped on her seatbelt and mocked him under her breath.

Wesley shook his head at her playful antics, dropping his bag in the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat. He fixed his seatbelt as Kismet began to drive, glancing at him once and dropping her act with a smile and a roll of her eyes.

"You should adjust the seat to give yourself some room," she pointed out, taking in the cramped position of his legs from the corner of her eye.

He nodded, playing with the controls for a moment to create space for himself. He spread his legs and leaned back, sitting in a more relaxed position as he forced his eyes to stay open. He was hit with a wave of exhaustion as soon as he sat in the car, but after a moment's struggle, his eyes slipped shut.

Twenty minutes later, Kismet glanced at him as she came to a stop at a red light. She felt herself itching to touch him as she took in the tilt of his head against the headrest of his seat and the attractive way in which he was manspreading in her car.

Stop, she thought to herself, clenching a hand against the steering wheel.

After a moment's contemplation, she checked the pedestrian count down to see when the light would change. Satisfied with the countdown, she leaned over to lightly brush a few stray strands of hair away from his eyes.

His eyes fluttered open sleepily as she began to pull her hand away, catching her hand lazily in his own as he brought them to rest on his lap. Then, he closed his eyes again.

Kismet felt the heat of his hand encasing her own but was distracted from the endearing gesture as the car behind her angrily honked at her to move.

So much for checking the pedestrian count, she thought, noticing the light had already turned green.

She drove the rest of the way to their apartment complex with her left hand steering the wheel and the right hand on Wesley's lap, trapped in his own.

This is not healthy for my heart.