Page 15 of Perfectly Wrong

It didn’t matter how much joy Sam brought into my life, though—I didn’t want him to get hurt. And that was inevitable. He couldn’t see the reality of our casual relationship, not clearly. The fact that he’d spent an absurd amount of money on a last-minute flight, travelling seventeen hours from Toronto to Tokyo just to see me, was alarming.

“Do you love me, Sam?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. He took a step back.

“Love?” He seemed to be processing the word, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not sure. What’s the difference between loving someone and adoring them? Which one leads you down the aisle, gets you two kids and a dog?”

I took a deep breath, almost panicking. “Love, I think.”

“Then I adore you,” he said, his grin widening.

“Great.” I could feel my heart racing. “Perfect.”

There was still time to save his soul, it seemed.

Sam stepped closer, brushing his hand against my cheek. He began kissing my face, his lips igniting a fire everywhere they touched, while his hand moved to my neck. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the sensation. His hands were skilled, probably from endless hours playing the guitar. When his lips reached the base of my ear, I pulled back, pushing him away.

“What?” He looked confused.

“You’re not going to win me over with sex, Martin,” I said, my tone stern.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” He kicked off his shoes and began undressing. “Especially after you see the gift I brought you. I think you’ll regret it.”

Sam sprawled across my bed, now wearing only his trademark black boxers, looking more irresistible than ever. I could easily ride him for hours and not feel guilty about it.

“Where is it?” I asked, intrigued. He pointed to his suitcase and told me to grab a pink package from inside. “Victoria’s Secret?”

Oh. My underwear!

When I opened it, I was stunned. He’d promised me two, but there were dozens in the bag—all different styles, colours, and fabrics. Some were pretty daring, too.

“Twenty-two pairs, in case you’re wondering.” He beamed with pride. “Two because I promised, and the other twenty so I can rip more without you getting mad at me.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter. I spread them out beside him on the bed and asked Sam to pick one.

“Ha-ha,” he mocked, “I see the regret is kicking in sooner than expected.”

He chose a black set, similar to the one he’d torn apart before. The difference was this one was a thong.

I went to the bathroom to change and start the day as he’d suggested. I was already awake—might as well make the most of it, right?

Right.

Chapter five

That Thursday had started way too early—but in the best way. After what Sam had called, “the best morning sex of my life, we definitely need to do this again,” I was getting ready for work while he took a shower.

“She never hides the truth, and I think that’s amazing / It’s hard to find someone like this,” he sang at the top of his lungs, as if performing on stage. “She’s hardly a Greek goddess / but I love her with all of me.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled. His voice was beautiful, and he wasn’t even trying to stay on pitch.

“Even if I tried, this won’t end here / Even though she’s won this time / she says I’m not good enough.”

“But I can’t stay away,” I sang softly, keeping up with his loud performance. I peeked into the bathroom, and he winked at me. “If you keep this up, we’re going to get kicked out of the hotel. How am I supposed to explain that to the press? Can you imagine the headlines? Sam Martin kicked out of hotel for singing in the shower.”

He burst into laughter. “Are you saying I’m not a good singer, Miss Vaughan?” He raised his eyebrows playfully.

“You just sang that I’m not a Greek goddess. Be grateful I’m being nice when I tell you to tone it down.”

“I didn’t say that.” He couldn’t stop laughing. “I was just singing my song.”

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