A Surprising Reunion

"Let's not overstate the situation, Kaila," I responded, striving for a controlled tone. "We had one date, when I was unaware you were a student here. That chapter's closed, and there are no issues on my side." It was bullshit, but right then I didn't care, as long as I sounded authoritative and she bought it. "Focus on your studies. You're doing well, keep it up." I figured that last part came off as patronising, and her raised eyebrow confirmed it, but I was her teacher. The sooner she perceived me as such the better.

"Um, okay, cool," she said, seemingly accepting my words. As she moved away, she paused, "Still, even if I know that, you might want to tone down the staring a little. You know, in case other people get the wrong idea." She smiled sweetly and left.

I flushed at her words, my reaction not helped by my instinct to watch her leave, basically proving her point. But God damn—that little skirt. And was she intentionally making her walk sexier? I wondered if I should have pretended I was furious with her. She'd seemed more tentative before I'd told her I wasn't. With a sigh, I gathered my things, bracing myself for a long semester.

After that day, things with Kaila fell into an uneasy pattern. She attended every class, and every class I was distracted. Despite my efforts to ignore her, Kaila's active participation and insightful comments inevitably drew my attention right back. Meanwhile, the worry that she'd approach me, or show up at my home again, continued to keep me on edge, fraying my nerves.

And she always looked incredible. Some students opted for comfort, wearing hoodies and other baggy clothes. Kaila? Not a chance. She chose outfits that accentuated her figure: Blouses with low necklines, figure-hugging dresses—her wardrobe choices may have been a reflection of her bold style, but at the time felt like a deliberate attempt to unsettle me.

This strategy, if intentional, had a major success several weeks later, right before the mid-semester break. The moment she walked in, my attention was drawn to the fact that she was with a guy: Matt Harbour. I'd previously seen them as just classmates, friends at most—they would sometimes sit together. However, their interaction that day, full of laughs and casual touches as they entered, hinted at a closeness I hadn't noticed before. Despite myself, I found myself assessing him: A bit scrawny—still looks like a kid really. Kaila could do way better...

As they settled into their seats, I tried to shake off those thoughts; It was none of my business. Then Kaila shrugged off her cardigan. It fell away, revealing the red off-shoulder top she'd worn to my place. Her decision to wear that particular top again, which vividly reminded me of our personal history, introduced an uncomfortable feeling. The colour, so striking and familiar, acted like a beacon, pulling my eyes towards her. Her top shimmered, especially around her chest, as if ensuring that the eye would be drawn there. And, well—her chest did look great...

Our eyes met. Her faint smirk told me I'd been caught staring. It wouldn't be the last time.

Throughout the lecture, my attention kept drifting back to Kaila and Matt, trying to decipher their relationship. As if feeling jealous over Kaila's interactions with another student wasn't troubling enough, each time my gaze went in her direction, she noticed, our eyes locking in brief, uncomfortable moments.

The final instance occurred during group discussions. As I moved around the room, engaging with the student groups, my eyes settled on Kaila. She was energetically getting involved, her vibrant presence standing out. My gaze lingered for too long, and she was clearly aware of it. She paused mid-sentence, our eyes locking in another charged moment, and I felt awkward for being caught, again.

When the class finally ended, I hastily retreated to the sanctuary of my office, feeling shaken.

Twenty minutes later, the quiet of my office was disrupted by a knock. "Come," I called, not looking up from my laptop.

"Am I interrupting?" a familiar voice asked.

My heart skipped as I saw Kaila leaning against the door frame. Her posture highlighted the curve of her hips, the slim contours of her body flowing seamlessly into the gentle swell of her breasts. Each detail drew me in, stirring memories of forbidden fantasies; it certainly didn't help that many of those fantasies involved me removing the exact top she was wearing.

"Um, hi," I managed, caught off guard.

"We need to talk," she announced.

"Okay," I said, trying to sound composed. "Was everything clear from today's lecture?"

"I'm struggling with something," she began, stepping in and closing the door. "You do realise that being your student, doesn't mean I'm stupid, right?"

"I'm aware," I replied cautiously.

"Then, you must know, I notice how you look at me in class," she accused.

I felt a knot in my stomach. "Making eye contact is normal during lectures—"

"That's crap," she interrupted. "I haven't made a big deal of it, but I'm not blind. It's obvious you're attracted to me, and—well, after what I told you—you know how those looks affect me..." She trailed off, slightly flushed.

Surprise and a hint of excitement coursed through me. Had I been turning her on?

"You decided not to pursue this," she continued, her hand motioning between us, "And I've respected that. But enough is enough. You can't have it both ways. You can't keep looking at me like that without acting on it," she said assertively.

"Jesus, Kaila," I almost groaned, "we simply can't have these conversations—you're my student. I'm your teacher. There are professional boundaries."

Her gaze held mine, showing determination and something deeper. "I don't see you that way. And I don't think you see me as just a student either," she declared confidently. As she spoke, she moved around my desk and perched herself on it, directly in front of me. I had to scoot my chair back to avoid contact. No other student would ever act like that in my office, which—I guess—was her point.

I sighed, a mix of arousal and frustration welling up. "Kaila, this is completely inappropriate," I stated. The fact we were alone in my office, behind a closed door was already an ethical breach, let alone the nature of our conversation. And not to mention how bad you want her.

"Why?" she pressed.

"I don't know how else to say this, Kaila. I'm your teacher," I replied. She continued to look at me expectantly, and I felt compelled to grasp for more reasons, as if any were needed. "And there's the age difference..." I felt a twinge of guilt using that as an excuse. I didn't see it as an issue, but hoped she might be self-conscious about it.

"That's not true!" she protested, her hands animatedly gesturing, as her eyes moved around the room. "You didn't care about that before, and it's not that big..." Her voice trailed off, hands dropping back to grip the edges of the desk. She looked me squarely in the eyes. "And you know it."

Her shift from flustered back to assertive almost made me shiver, or perhaps that was because I was a bundle of nerves. I stared at her, speechless.

In a softer tone, she continued, "I'm not some naive girl, out of her depth. We're both adults and we both want this." Her confidence was as disconcerting as it was compelling. "It would stay between us," she said, pausing. "You can trust me. I know you're worried, because of what happened with that student—"

"Lisa," I said quickly.

Kaila's voice sharpened. "I'm nothing like that bitch," she nearly spat.

Her assessment of Lisa was spot-on, yet the intensity of her reaction should have been alarming. Instead, I found myself struggling to suppress a smile at her protectiveness.

Noticing my reaction, she smiled in return. She pushed herself off my desk, and for a moment, I tensed, half-expecting her to come on to me. I was filled with relief—and disappointment—when she didn't. Simultaneously, I realised her climbing onto my lap was a scenario I'd fantasise about later. She instead turned around to lean over my desk, presenting a great view of her arse. Get a grip, I chastised myself, even as my body reacted. I discreetly draped an arm across my lap, to hide the evidence.

"You're not denying any of it," she noted, scribbling on a post-it. "It's clear it's affecting you, just like it's affecting me."

I almost denied it right then but stopped myself. What was the point? She knew. Instead, I went for honesty.

"There was something between us, Kaila, but this isn't helping. You pushing it risks my career—it isn't endearing or helpful." I took a breath. "It can't happen," I concluded, my voice regretful. "I'm—I'm sorry." Had I really just apologised?!

She faced me, stepping closer, her hand caressing my cheek. "And I'm sorry you think that—because I know it could." She handed me the post-it, an address written across it. Caught up in the moment, my arm moved instinctively from my lap to accept it. As it did, her eyes drifted downwards, unmistakably pausing on my obvious bulge. She didn't even look surprised.

"I'll be home tonight. Just think about it," she urged, holding my gaze for a moment. Then she kissed my cheek softly and left, leaving her wonderful scent, and a storm of confusion and desire in her wake.

Early that evening, I found myself alone, fixated on the address Kaila had left. More than just letters and numbers, it represented a crossroads. Alarmingly close, it was to a block of flats that I often ran by. The realisation that I jogged past her place unknowingly struck me as surreal. She seemed almost too conveniently within reach, making the idea of seeing her feel more real and immediate, as if I could simply put on my coat and stroll over to hers.

The entire situation felt bizarre. What she'd said echoed my own thoughts—we had a connection, that was clear. If not for the student-teacher barrier I was almost certain we would have something. Her maturity was apparent, although her boundary-pushing at my apartment and office, not to mention her initial deception, worried me. Still, I couldn't deny part of me was flattered by her reluctance to back off. And what was the deal with Matt? Was it a tactic to evoke jealousy, or was I reading too much into it?

My thoughts circled around the possibility of a relationship with Kaila after her transfer. I shook my head to banish the thoughts. I knew if I allowed myself to think that way, counting down the next two months would be agonising. What I needed was to move on, to use the week break for a mental reset.

I reached out to my friend Jack. He and his wife Anna had been encouraging me towards dating again, with Anna keen on playing matchmaker. Although initially reluctant, the idea of a blind date seemed increasingly appealing as a step to move beyond my fixation on Kaila.

I agreed to a dinner invite from Jack. It wasn't just about the prospect of a new date; it was an opportunity to talk about everything that had happened, as well as distract myself from the lure of Kaila's note. Jack, a trusted friend, had always been a source of grounded advice. Straightforward and honest he promised a much-needed perspective amid the emotional chaos Kaila had stirred up.

Arriving at Jack's, the house's calmness contrasted with the usual buzz when Anna was around. Her demanding career often left Jack to man the fort. That night, it was just us, surrounded by take-out.

"Anna's swamped with work again," he said, handing me a beer. "But she's excited about setting you up. She's got someone in mind—her cousin actually. And before you ask, yes, she's quite the looker," he grinned.

I chuckled, ribbing him, "Keep it in your pants Jack. Anna's at work, not on another continent!"

His laughter felt strained. "Just saying, she's great."

As we tucked in, Jack talked up this mystery woman. At some point he got a text, and asked if Saturday night worked. With a playful flourish, I mimed signing up, agreeing to the date.

Post-dinner, I seized the opportunity to discuss Kaila. I felt a mix of nervousness and relief confiding in someone. I may have understated how tempted I felt, but I largely shared the entire story—a delicate balance between honesty and self-preservation. Jack listened intently, offering nods and timely interjections. Once I'd finished, he exhaled deeply, "Woah, mate. Feelings can get complicated in tricky situations like yours. But you seem to be handling it as best you can."

His calm reaction surprised me. "I thought you'd be more shocked?" I said.

He shook his head, smiling. "We're all human, aren't we? It's natural to have feelings." He paused thoughtfully. "It's normal to notice others, being married doesn't make me immune either. It's how you deal with that attraction that's key." He shook his head, as if dismissing a thought. "Getting back out there is the best thing for you, mate."

The conversation shifted, Jack hinting at challenges in his marriage. Despite his easygoing manner, it was clear he was dealing with his own issues. His words, however, gave me some comfort as we wrapped up the evening.

*

Saturday arrived quickly, bringing the anticipated blind date that I'd hoped would offer a distraction from my persistent thoughts about Kaila. The venue was a fashionable bar in the heart of town. Upon entering, I was surprised to see a familiar face waiting for me: April, my gym saviour. She looked even more attractive than I remembered, her workout attire replaced by a dress that accentuated her figure. Her warm smile instantly put me at ease.

"April, what a nice surprise!" I exclaimed.

She laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Well, hello! I'd no idea you were my mystery man."

We settled into an easy conversation, covering topics from our gym routines to work and our favourite books—each sparking laughter and revealing shared interests. April was a stage performer; an actress, singer, and dancer, juggling various jobs to support her passion. I found myself genuinely enjoying her company. I'd feared I would reflectively compare whoever my date was to Kaila, but I realised she hadn't crossed my mind... at least until I had that realisation anyway.

"I regretted not talking to you more at the gym, that day." I confessed, "I'm glad we have this opportunity."

"Same here," April beamed. "I'd wanted to introduce myself for a while. But, I figured you were the quiet, serious gym type."

Our drinks vanished and we exchanged numbers, the possibility of a second date hanging in the air. Yet, it felt too early for the evening to end.

"How about dinner now?" I suggested.

"Definitely!" April responded enthusiastically. "I've heard great things about a nearby Italian place."

We made our way there and the restaurant seemed deserving of its reputation: it had a vibrant yet intimate atmosphere, ideal for our growing rapport. As we chatted and laughed, I found myself increasingly captivated by her. Maybe this could actually work, I mused.

I was sharing a light-hearted story when the waitress approached. I casually glanced up, only to feel my pulse quicken. You've got to be kidding me.

Standing right before us was Kaila.

Kaila had mentioned she was a waitress, but really, what were the odds? For a second, we both froze, caught in an awkward moment of recognition. Her hair was elegantly pulled back, and she was dressed in the restaurant's uniform. It was simple, yet she made it look effortlessly sexy; her blouse showed a little cleavage, and the knee-length skirt hugged her hips and butt. Subtle makeup highlighted those deep, expressive eyes that had captivated me from the start. My heart raced, charged memories of our kiss, as well as our latest encounter, resurfacing.

Kaila regained her composure, her professionalism masking any initial surprise as she took our drinks order. Her voice was steady, but I noticed a flicker of something—confusion, possibly hurt—in her eyes. I forced myself to look away, consciously redirecting my thoughts back to April, who was cheerfully chatting away, oblivious to the underlying tension.

Throughout dinner, I struggled to stay focused. Seated with a clear view of the restaurant, Kaila frequently crossed my line of sight. Her presence had a magnetic pull on my attention, and occasionally I even found myself guiltily scanning the room actively looking for her. At one point, I saw her flash a dazzling smile at a customer and felt a twinge of jealousy.

I caught myself each time my attention drifted and redirected it back to April. Yet, I could tell my distracted state hadn't gone unnoticed; the earlier vibrant energy between us had dimmed. Midway through April sharing an anecdote, I caught a glimpse of Kaila serving another table, absent-mindedly playing with her skirt, an action that inexplicably captivated me. Those legs... Her flawless skin stood out strikingly against the fabric. I bet she gets plenty of tips.

When I turned back, April had paused and was looking at me quizzically. "You okay?" She nodded towards Kaila. "Do you know her?" Oh shit. How obvious had I been?

"Oh. No," I managed, caught off guard. I felt bad for lying, but admitting I was checking out another woman seemed equivalent to ending the date. "Just lost in thought. You were saying about your friend?"

April resumed her story, her expression a mix of suspicion and amusement. I was fairly sure I was off the hook, so long as I toned down my gawking. When Kaila brought our food, I risked only a brief glance. Her expression was unreadable—I certainly didn't receive one of those warm smiles she'd given that other customer.

While we ate, we discussed our favourite foods and I managed to stay fully engaged, at least for a while. However, as we were finishing, I caught sight of Kaila again, weaving through the restaurant. I hadn't been specifically looking for her, but our eyes met almost instantly as she looked up. She held the eye contact deliberately, as if stressing she knew I'd been watching. Her gaze was intense and fierce. Damn. She looked pissed off. And blow me down, if she wasn't even hotter for it.

My leg nervously bounced under the table... and I felt myself starting to get hard. As soon as I realised, I tried to shift my focus elsewhere, but it only grew worse. Why can't I get a hold of myself?

I'd held Kaila's glare a little too long, and April, sensing something was off, turned to follow my gaze. "What's going on over there?" she asked, sounding more annoyed than before.

"Huh? No, nothing..." I tried to brush it off. "Just a couple discussing their bill."

April didn't respond, but she looked visibly irritated. Had she spotted Kaila?

Feeling shaken, I excused myself to the restroom, slipping my hands into my pockets to discreetly hide my arousal. Once inside, I splashed water on my face, trying to shake off the guilt and frustration. I felt terrible for April; she deserved my full attention, yet Kaila's presence was an overwhelming distraction, making it impossible to build on our promising start. Resolving to salvage what was left of the evening, I concluded that I needed to get us out of there. I figured I could suggest leaving and explain why later. If I play it right, it might even be a funny story...

While giving myself a mental pep talk, I decided to take a quick leak and moved to the urinals. I was fiddling with my belt and fly when the bathroom door swung open. I didn't look up—who does? Until a voice exclaimed, "What the hell!"