Page 9 of Perfectly Wrong

The next thing I knew, we were tangled up on my couch, moaning and murmuring, our clothes strewn everywhere, our bodies slick with sweat, having one of the best nights of my life.

Chapter four

One, two, three, four, five shirts. Three skirts and two pairs of pants. A pantsuit and some jewellery. I paused to think. Running clothes! Even though I always packed them and never actually used them—too exhausted to go for a run after long days. But, hey, Tokyo has its charm, and I could use that as an excuse.

I was packing my suitcase when Sam came out of the en suite bathroom, wearing only his black boxers and using a towel to dry his hair. “I still don’t get why I can’t come with you,” he muttered.

“Probably because it’s a work trip, not a vacation.” I started placing each item of clothing carefully inside the suitcase. “Besides, let me remind you—we’re just seeing each other. We’re not a couple, and people can’t know about us.” He sighed. “And that, dear, was your idea.”

“Right.” Sam’s smile was laced with sarcasm. “Brilliant idea.”

“We can end things right now if you’d prefer.”

He moved closer and helped me close the suitcase.

“How long are you going to keep throwing that in my face?” Sam took the suitcase from the bed and set it by the door. Lately, we’d been caught in an endless loop, having the same argument for the past month. Since we started this secret relationship, it had been both wonderful and difficult. It felt amazing having someone to come home to at the end of a long day, especially after being alone for so long. Not to mention, he was young, full of energy, and had this “life’s just beginning” aura. He was also intense and curious, eager to learn anything—from cooking to sex.

But his desire for a serious relationship could be exhausting. His emotions often overruled his logic, and he craved a level of commitment I wasn’t ready to give.

I sat down on the bed, studying his perfectly sculpted face that looked as if it had been hand-carved. He took three deep breaths before sitting beside me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know we have an agreement, and I’ll learn to operate on your terms.”

“They’re not my terms, Martin. We both want this, but in different ways. Right now, I can’t be in a public relationship with you, for a lot of reasons.”

“Your career at Icon Records,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but not just mine—yours too. We’re building something incredible here, and you have years of success ahead. I’m not going to let a scandal ruin that if I can help it.”

He held my hand and started tracing his fingers over mine. I hated feeling like I had to lecture him, like I was old enough to have a son his age.

“And I’ve told you before, I’m not interested in the social expectations that come with a public relationship,” I said. “It’s not about disrespecting you; it’s about respecting myself and giving myself some space right now.”

He studied my face for a moment, and I felt my cheeks flush. Sam smiled and gave me a soft kiss.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” His voice was full of concern.

“I don’t know.” I felt my chest tighten. I didn’t want to scare him with the details of my past with Noah. “It wasn’t good, Sam. You don’t want to know.”

He nodded. I stood up and positioned myself between his legs. Sam wrapped his arms around my waist.

“You suggested keeping this quiet, and I agreed. That’s the way it has to be, okay? Just know you’re free to end this whenever you want.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly.

“Let’s not make any promises.” I kissed him slowly. More than his scent, I loved the way he tasted. “Promises are made to be broken, and I don’t want to put either of us in that position.”

I pulled away, and he groaned. “Where are you going?”

“I need to do some research on a new client. I’ll be in the living room.”

I left the bedroom, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts, which clearly needed sorting out.

I had been researching this Japanese band since Monday. Jeremy was on my case to get every detail needed to convince their managers that bringing the group to Canada was a smart move. I’d worked with some of them before, and they were adamant about negotiating only with me, which was ridiculous, considering I wasn’t in finance or legal. I was flying to Tokyo just to be there and make them comfortable with signing. But I’d have a team of lawyers and financial experts with me who would handle the actual negotiations.

After two hours of studying, I rested my head on the desk and closed my eyes. I was practically learning Japanese without ever taking a class. Then a soft melody drifted through the room, and I looked up. Sam was sitting on the couch, strumming his guitar.

“I ask myself if someday she’ll be mine,” he sang, his eyes focused on the strings. “If she’ll ever tell anyone about me and her / though I’d fight for her with my life / I don’t own her heart.”

Was he just singing, or was that a hint?

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