Quarantined With My Professor Read online

  “Well rested?” he asked.

  “Very.”

  “Good.”

  She hurried to the bathroom, and then had to force herself out of there. She sat at the table and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Shit,” she muttered, staring down at the bitter black liquid. “Forgot to buy milk.”

  “We probably should have written a shopping list,” he admitted. “There’s sugar in one of the tins. I would have preferred milk as well.”

  She put the sugar in even though she knew she probably wouldn’t drink most of the drink. “It’s a good job I’m not going to need any energy for the next couple of weeks.”

  “I wonder what’s going to happen to finals,” he considered aloud. “Whether people will have to defer for a year, whether colleges will be shut down.”

  She groaned. “I don’t like the idea of limbo.”

  “I think that’ll depend on whether limbo pays my wages.”

  A half smile touched her lips, but as always, the topic of money made her uncomfortable.

  “Still, I suppose I’d recommend using self-isolation as practicing time. I haven’t heard anything from the other apartments. I guess the soundproofing is probably pretty good.”

  “Practicing in the constant company of one of the people who is going to be assessing me sounds like hell.”

  “It’s practically cheating. I’ll be able to give you all the tips.”

  She pulled a face. “I’m not really in the mood to play.” She was never really in the mood to play. She drew their attention back to the news, which she translated for him. “Most of the EU countries have shut all bars and restaurants now. No tourist attractions. It looks like Austria had quarantined us for definite, no leaving the house except for essentials.”

  He, annoyingly, ignored her. “Well I’ll be playing. We can even play together. In short intervals for me, but any excuse to play is a good one.”

  “I’m not going to play,” she said bluntly, resisting a childish, And you can’t make me.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to.”

  She really was being childish now, but she also really didn’t want to answer his question.

  “What stopped you caring?”

  “Can you not just leave it?”

  Their heated gazes met and they both looked away when it turned from annoyance to something else, something they were trying to ignore.

  “Well,” he said, “I’m going to play. You’re welcome to join me.”

  He fetched his violin from the side of the couch and prepared it to play. She watched from behind the coffee she wasn’t drinking in spite of herself. He was wearing just a plain white t-shirt and pajama bottoms, while handling a violin that must have cost thousands. His collar bones poked out of the top of his shirt. His feet were bare.

  Something about the whole image was incredibly erotic. She tried to hide her sudden hot flush, but she didn’t look away.

  Then he started to play. His fingers moved deftly over the instrument and he shut his eyes. She didn’t even pretend that she wasn’t watching every single movement he made.

  In the small room he played quietly, but it made it more intimate. She was watching him make music so beautiful she could have cried, and it was in a small apartment the other side of the world from her home, from a gorgeous man dressed in his pajamas.

  She thought she might have fallen in love with him then and there.

  And for the first time since she had left Duane, her fingers itched to play her cello.

  It definitely didn’t feel like half an hour when he stopped, and lowered the violin to rest on his leg. She had to blink to remind herself she was there with him, that he could see the enamored look on her face, the heat on her cheeks. Thank God he couldn’t see the wetness between her thighs.

  She was sure her cheeks got redder when he didn’t say anything. She had no idea how she was meant to break the silence without admitting how breathless she was.

  “Too impressed to grab your own instrument?” he asked, teasing, giving them an out from the charged moment.

  “I wouldn’t have wanted to embarrass you with my outstanding technique,” she taunted back, knowing that he wouldn’t be offended. He’d seen the look on her face.

  He put his violin down and came to sit opposite the table with her. Too close. He rested his head on his hands and looked at her closely. “I may as well get the blunt question out of the way, because it’s going to continue to bug me until I know.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Really?”

  “Really. What happened?”

  She looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I do.”

  She raised a brow at him. “Will you tell me yours if I‌ tell you mine?”

  He drummed his fingers on the table and then nodded. “Deal.”

  She took another deep breath, and then took a cop out. “My boyfriend broke up with me.” That wasn’t even really true. She had been the one who pulled the plug on it at the end. “And it made me sad.”‌

  He looked at her, waiting for her to expand, but she didn’t.

  “Okay,”‌ he said. “And now for mine. My girlfriend broke up with me and it made me sad.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “I’m glad we’re getting to know each other better.”

  “There’s nothing like bonding in quarantine.”

  The silence practically begged them to go into more detail, but Laurie didn’t give in to it. Adrian was her professor. He wasn’t even Adrian, he was Professor Hughes, and there was no way he was going to be the first person that she told about all the things Duane had done.

  “I’m going to have a shower,”‌ she said instead. There was no way he was going to interrupt her doing that.

  Maybe she would spend the next two weeks showering.

  Chapter Six

  Adrian

  They tried their best to skirt around each other.

  They didn’t do a great job of it.

  For most of the day they sat in front of the television, because there wasn’t much else for them to do in the small apartment. There was one world news channel in English, and watching that on repeat wasn’t good for either of their anxieties. There were plenty of channels showing American shows dubbed into German, which they ended up settling on.

  Laurie started off translating just the words, but it soon turned into her putting on voices and dramatic faces at especially ridiculous parts of dialogue. He sat on the couch and just watched her rather than the television.

  He probably looked like a love sick puppy, just resting his head on the back of the couch and unable to remove his gaze from her. They were two days into quarantine and he’d already kind of stopped caring. It wasn’t a good sign at all.

  It was strange how that happened, though. It felt like they were in a whole different world to everyone else. Locked away, in a foreign country, just the two of them. It was almost like whatever happened afterward, this would be completely separate.

  The dangerous mindset persisted even though he recognized that he was already building the justifications for when his self-control failed and he made a move on her.

  In an attempt to stop himself falling into the trap, he ran through all the reasons he should resist her.

  He could lose his job, for a start. It would be a scandal, and he had no doubts that the college would fire him on the spot if they knew he was even thinking about sleeping with her, never mind if he actually did it.

  Trying to ignore the taunting voice saying, And how the hell would they know what you did in the middle of Salzburg in quarantine? was difficult.

  Then there were all the other things. There was the fact that it wasn’t necessarily just sex that he wanted. He liked her. He wanted to know her. He wanted to know all the things that had happened in her past to bring her to this point where she didn’t care about her instrument anymore. And that wasn’t just so he could pass the time. It was genuine
curiosity.

  And the age gap. She was probably twenty-two, since she’d taken the gap year. He was going to be turning thirty-six this year. He’d spent ten years doing one career and was onto his second. He’d had relationships. He’d bought a house. He’d been going to get married. She had all that to come.

  But as he sat there and watched her over dramatically mimic the characters on screen, he wanted her to have all that to come with him.

  That evening they fought about who was going to get the bed again. Laurie lay herself on the couch with her arms and legs spread wide. “See, I’m so small that this is perfectly comfy for me. Can we at least just do one night where you get the bed?‌ You look tired. You should get a proper sleep in a proper bed.”

  He pressed his hands to where the bags under his eyes must be. “Well, thanks.”

  She rolled hers.

  He stood, considering what he was going to do next for just a moment before going for it. He slipped his hands beneath her and hoisted her to his chest without effort, then deposited her on the floor. He ignored how soft and warm she was in his arms, how this proved that he’d be able to hold her against the wall while he fucked her senseless if he wanted to.

  Then he laid on the couch himself, smug smile on his face. She sat up, trying to scowl at him but failing.

  “There are so many things that I’m tempted to do, but I’m going to resist.”‌

  He suspected most of them involved physical contact, and he wished she’d just try them anyway.

  They were playing with fire, here, and they both knew it. Both pushed their luck just a little bit and then drew back. It would reach the point soon where they didn’t draw back, and the line would have been crossed.

  But for tonight, they were safe. She stood up, hand on the couch barely brushing against his thigh as she did. He hurried to pull the comforter over him and what would soon be a very obvious hard on.

  “I’ll find a way to get on that couch tomorrow night,” she vowed. “But for now, good night.”

  “Night,” he called as she disappeared.

  When she’d gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. Another night down. Just twelve, minimum, to go.

  Chapter Seven

  Laurie

  The third day dragged. Laurie was trying and failing to pay attention to a book. Adrian was continuing to squint at the German television and not understanding any of it.

  They’d had confirmation that morning that everyone had not only gotten back to the States safely, but had made it back to their respective home towns, too. Laurie had gotten the confirmation from Michelle, who had been thanking her profusely for the money she had given. Laurie had topped up her bank account so that she would be able to travel onward from New York to her home town, which was in rural Texas. She knew it would be a long and expensive trip. Michelle had asked her to thank Professor Hughes, too, and she’d done so.

  She’d messaged her mom to let her know that things were all still the same, that everything was fine, and she’s gotten an immediate response asking if she needed anything.

  All Laurie needed was to get a grip of herself, and her sudden, intense attraction to Adrian.

  Sitting on the couch with the comforter shared between them, their feet and legs occasionally brushing against each other, wasn’t helping. It was cozy. It was intimate.

  She felt closer to him with every passing second, even though they weren’t talking much.

  By the afternoon, they were both feeling stir crazy. “Do you normally go out a lot?”‌ she asked him.

  “Every day. I always walk to work, and I cycle sometimes. I live near a park, so I try and get around it at least once every other day. It’s infuriating being so close to all this beautiful nature and not being able to go and see any of it. I doubt I’ll get Coronavirus walking up a mountain.”

  “Probably not. We might get arrested, though.”

  He laughed. “They might deport me back, I suppose. That’s one way to get around the travel restrictions.”

  “I suspect it would end up being a very expensive way.”

  “I definitely can’t afford that.”

  “Maybe we should take the apartment apart and see if there’s anything else to do in here.”

  “We’ll have putting it back together to do.”‌

  “A great workout.”

  She could think of another great workout which would definitely pass the time.

  They both picked opposite ends of the small space and started opening the surprising amount of cupboard space in search for something to do. Adrian found a very outdated collection of CDs. “New soundtrack?” he asked, holding up a gaudy 2 Unlimited CD.

  “Better than NCIS‌ dubbed in German,”‌ she decided. “I’ll see if we can find a CD‌ player in our search.”

  She didn’t find a CD‌ player, but she did find a small collection of board games. “Jackpot.”‌

  She held up the loot, and Adrian gave an overenthusiastic whoop.

  “They’re a bit dusty,” she said as she put them on the table, “But there’s some classics here.”‌

  There were four boxes. The Monopoly looked battered, and she hoped it was all there. It was Vienna Monopoly rather than the classic American version. They had Trivial Pursuit, too, which was also in German and which wasn’t likely to be much good to them. They had a pack of cards. Twister, which she already knew was going to end in disaster. And Clue.

  “These are definitely going to kill some time,” he decided.

  “What do you want to go for first?”

  “Monopoly?”‌

  That was a safe choice.

  And a boring choice. “I’ve always fucking hated Monopoly,”‌ Laurie said half an hour in. “Shit game.”

  Adrian laughed long and loud. “Yeah it’s not great. As you said, better than watching American TV‌ dubbed into German though.”

  “Can we take a Monopoly break and play something else?”‌

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with the fact I’ve got two sets already and you’ve got none, does it?”

  She looked mock offended. “I would never be a sore loser. Not ever.”

  “What did you want to play instead, then?‌ I think you winning at German Trivial Pursuit wouldn’t even be classed as winning.”‌

  “And I‌ don’t think we have enough table space to set Clue up if we’re going to come back to this game.”

  “I guess Twister, then?”‌

  They both looked at it with some amount of trepidation. Physical contact. Setting themselves up for disaster.

  But because they were gluttons for punishment, they did it anyway.

  “I’ll push the couch out of the way,”‌ he said, “You get the chairs. We’ll probably be able to make just about enough space to get the mat down.”‌

  “So we’re going to have to both play the game and be able to reach the spinner while we’re going so,” she figured, getting the mat out of the box. Normally there was someone who didn’t play and who just spun telling people where they needed to stick their hands and feet. With just the two of them, they would have to take both roles.

  “Okay,”‌ he said when the mat was spread on the floor and the spinner was in her hand. “Who wants to go first?”

  “You can have the honor,” she said immediately, passing him the spinner. “I guess we’ll spin for ourselves. That way if you can’t reach the spinner then you lose that way too.”

  “Makes sense,”‌ he agreed, and spun for himself. “Foot, red.”

  She made a noise of discontent when she got, “Hand, green.”

  The first few, as always, were easy. Easy, but they were already in close quarters. Her calf brushed against his upper arm. They were both wearing pajamas, too, and her pajamas consisted of a baggy shirt, and equally baggy shorts.

  It wasn’t until she bent over that she realized just how little they would be concealing. The flush of embarrassment must have covered her whole body when Adrian said, “Nice pan
ties.”

  She resisted the urge to lose the game by taking her foot off yellow to kick him.

  She’d definitely never expected to hear that from the mouth of her professor.

  And a few minutes later, she was in a position she had never expected to be in with her professor. He was doing a kind of downward dog across the whole mat, which wasn’t giving her a lot of room to maneuver. A part of her wondered if he was doing it on purpose, to make her have to brush against him. She didn’t mind at all.

  She was just about sticking to one corner of the mat with her hands and feet all on four circles next to each other. She was just about short enough to have made it work.

  But then she spun the spinner, and her hand was forced onto a red, the color on the opposite side of the mat, and on the other side of Adrian.

  She weighed up her options. There was no way she was getting over him–he was far taller than she was–which meant she was going to have to try and go under. She knew it was going to fail before she attempted it, but she wasn’t going to just give up.

  Trying desperately to keep three of her limbs in their little spot, she ducked under Adrian and reached out for the closest red square. “Shit, shit, shit,” she said as she stretched, feeling her balance wobble.

  And then it was gone. She couldn’t recover gracefully, but her instincts kicked in and she clung to whatever she could as she fell. What she could grab was Adrian. One arm looped around his waist and the other captured the front of his shirt in her fist.

  There was no way he was staying up either, and he collapsed onto the ground on top of her.

  She was laughing too hard to care that his whole weight had almost crushed her for a second, before he recovered and held most of himself off her.

  Kind of off her, anyway. Their whole bodies pressed against each other, finally flesh to flesh like they’d been so clearly longing for since the moment they’d realized they were quarantined together.

  Her laughter died on her tongue and was replaced by breathlessness as her skin turned to fire. His face was right there. Jawline dusted with stubble and deep brown eyes being swallowed by his dilating pupils as he stared straight back at her.