Count to three: My affair with my dynamics professor (teacher x student)

Chapter 6

I turned the volume of the radio down as Arvid took a left turn and pulled his Porsche up to the university's stables. He was heading out to do some grocery shopping and had offered to drop me off on the way — an offer I gladly accepted, especially since it meant riding in his comfortable car instead of enduring the grime of public transport.

"I just remembered I ran out of cotton pads," I said, as he slowed to a stop at the side of the road. "Could you please buy me some?"

"Sure thing," he smiled.

"Okay, thanks. And thanks for the ride, too. See you at home!" I said, opening the passenger door and stepping out.

"Be careful. Bye!" he called, winking as I closed the door. I stood for a second, watching him drive off before turning back toward the stables.

"Good morning, Frida," came a voice from behind. I turned and saw Karimov approaching from the direction of the parking lot. She wore a long, dark blue winter coat and black boots — still dressed casually, even though we were about to ride again this morning. Her hair was straight today. I had never seen it like that before, and the unfamiliarity caught me off guard. I found myself watching her face longer than I should have.

"Good morning!" I replied quickly, snapping out of it. She was a real person, not just something conjured up in my head.

"Ready for today?" she asked coolly. I nodded.

"Come on," she said.

We headed toward the dressing rooms. I walked beside her, half-distracted, thinking about how in the past three weeks she had given me three riding lessons — and how, with each one, we seemed to edge a little closer. She had begun sharing small details about herself, not much, just enough to keep me intrigued. And sometimes, she wasn't distant at all — just warm enough to make me wonder whether I was imagining that there had ever been any distance at all.

"Did a friend bring you here?" she asked suddenly as we entered the dressing room.

"Uh—" I stammered, caught off guard by the question. "Yes, he gave me a ride," I said. She nodded in acknowledgment and began unbuttoning her coat and removing her boots.

"I'll change quickly. I had to meet someone earlier, so I couldn't come dressed for riding," she said, shifting the conversation elsewhere.

"No problem," I replied, then perked up slightly. "Oh — I wanted to show you, I got these over the weekend." I reached into my bag and pulled out my new riding gloves. She had advised me to get a pair for comfort.

"Nice!" she said with a smile, brushing her fingers over the material. "How about we try something new today? So you get the full experience."

I nodded and turned to hang up my coat in the cabinet — and when I turned back around, I was met with the sight of her taking off her shirt. She pulled it over her head quickly, exposing her toned stomach and tanned skin. The white sports bra she wore contrasted beautifully with her complexion, and I blinked hard, snapping my gaze away as heat surged to my face.

I turned around abruptly, offering her my back.

"Yes, okay," I muttered.

There was a pause, and then I heard her exhale quietly behind me.

"What are you doing?" she asked, a little puzzled.

I stood perfectly still. My thoughts scrambled for a coherent explanation.

"You're changing your clothes," I said finally. "And I'm being respectful. Because... you're my teacher."

To my surprise, the sentence didn't sound insane once it was out. It actually made sense to me.