Perfectly Wrong (Elena & Sam Musical)

Chapter eight

I had no idea what was going on with me. Ever since my marriage ended, I’d sworn off any kind of commitment, determined to focus on my career and myself. It had been the perfect opportunity to break some old habits and put my life back on track.

Then a nineteen-year-old came along and turned everything upside down, leaving me crying on the couch after saying goodbye. Sam was on his way to Jamaica to finish his album, and I was at home, missing him already. And he’d only been gone for twenty minutes! The worst part? I knew he’d be back in a couple of weeks, just in time for Christmas and his sister’s graduation. There was absolutely no reason for me to feel like this.

We’d spent most of the weekend together. When he wasn’t visiting his parents, he was at my place, showing me pictures and asking for my opinion on how to decorate his new apartment.

I glanced at the time on my phone—5:30 a.m. on a Thursday, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I decided to make a cup of the tea Sam had bought for us to try. When I got to the kitchen, I found a note on the counter.

Don’t forget to eat and try not to miss me too much! SM

Honestly, if there was a contest for the sweetest person, Sam would win, no doubt. He was so caring, always putting everyone else’s needs before his own. His fans, his family, his friends—they all came first. And for the first time, I felt both full and empty inside. Full of love and gratitude for him, for how he brought a new kind of joy and excitement into my life. Empty because I knew we’d never be able to live our relationship to its fullest. He was young, free, travelling the world, meeting new people, and discovering new things. Someday, he’d meet a girl his age who could keep up with all his adventures, someone without a messy past weighing her down.

And I’d just go on with my life, dealing with my own issues, working hard—both professionally and mentally—to get over him. All I could hope was that he’d look back on our time together with fondness.

I filled the kettle and leaned against the kitchen counter—the same one where we’d had sex for the first time. I grinned at the memory, biting my lip. Things between us had started with a misunderstanding, leading to him singing and practically stalking me around town. Then we’d ended up in bed, again and again, until I’d lost count. We’d had some heated arguments too—he was stubborn and, at times, maddeningly immature. But he brought a breath of fresh air into my life.

The kettle clicked, signalling the water was ready. I poured it into a mug and added the tea bag, then heard a ping from my phone. I walked over to the couch and picked it up.

I know I told you not to miss me, but I miss you already.

I smiled at the screen.

For fuck’s sake, Martin! You left half an hour ago! —_—’

Of course, I’d never tell him about the tears or how much I wished he’d turn around and come back. That would freak him out and ruin everything too soon.

I know you miss me too! I’ll see you in a few weeks. XX

I pouted at the message but didn’t reply. Instead, I took a long, hot shower and got ready for work.

“Is it wrong to be this excited about the party?” Vicky asked, practically bouncing as we grabbed lunch at the cafeteria.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, since I rarely see you this hyped, I’d say it’s great to see you so happy,” I teased. “I only glanced at the invite. Where’s it happening again? Is there a theme?”

“You’re joking, right?” She stared at me, disbelief written all over her face.

“Uh, no?”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “Sam Martin is performing, Lena! He’s one of three artists doing a pocket show at the Icon Records gala!”

I nearly choked on my coffee, scalding my tongue. Damn it, why was this stuff always so hot?

“But he’s still so new,” I managed, after swallowing. “We usually see industry legends at the gala. How did they end up inviting him?”

“No clue, but I’m proud of him. He’s part of our team, and we should celebrate that, right?”

I was about to respond when my phone rang. Seeing an unknown number, I knew exactly who it was. I told Vicky I’d catch up with her at the office, and she left.

“Hello?” I answered, moving to the farthest table in the cafeteria.

“Hey, Lena.” Sam’s voice filled my ear, and I closed my eyes for a second. “Did you hear? I’m performing at the Icon Records gala!”

I could hear the surprise in his voice, and I smiled. “Actually, I just found out. But congratulations! This is huge—you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I guess...” His uncertainty was almost palpable.

“It is huge! And I’m so proud of you.”

“Really?” He sounded genuinely shocked. What was up with him?

“Absolutely. The whole team is thrilled and can’t wait for the party!”

“Thanks! I have to go; my flight’s boarding. I’ll call you when I land, okay?”

“Okay! Safe travels.” And come back safe, I almost added but hung up before I could embarrass myself.

The silence didn’t last long. On my way back to the office, my phone rang again—this time, it wasn’t Sam.

“John!” I practically shouted with relief.

“What the hell, Elena?” he barked, but I could tell he was trying not to laugh. “I’ve been working for months trying to get my top artist a spot at this damn party. Then you swoop in with your barely legal protégé and snag a gig for him?”

I threw my head back, laughing. “Only the strong survive, John!” I joked. “My boy’s got serious talent. Hard to compete with those falsettos.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. He’s still practically a kid and already causing me headaches. I guess the only way I can secure a spot like that is to lure you to New York.”

“In your dreams, my friend.” I couldn’t stop smiling. Talking to John always brightened my day, his voice somehow both calming and exciting, much like Sam’s. “But you didn’t call just to praise my unmatched skill in turning newbies into stars, did you?”

“Well, that too, but I actually called to ask if you’d be my date to the gala.”

I froze when I spotted Rento hovering by my office door. “Hang on a sec, John,” I whispered, pulling the phone away from my ear. “Our meeting’s not until 10 a.m., right?”

I had no desire to deal with him, but he didn’t seem to get the hint.

“Who are you talking to?” John’s voice came through the phone, but I ignored him.

“I know,” Rento murmured, looking a bit nervous. “I just thought I’d ask if you’d go to the gala with me. You’ve probably just received the invitation, so I’m guessing no one else has asked you yet.”

“Wrong,” John called out from the phone, and I stifled a laugh.

“Sorry, Rento, but I already have a date.” I put the phone back to my ear. “I’d love to go with you, John.”

I walked past Rento and into my office, John’s laughter echoing through the phone, making me smile even wider.

It had been a day packed with meetings with my incredible team. The SM Project was nearly finished and ready to launch. We’d decided that May 2018 would be our lucky month, and all the pre-launch interviews, photoshoots, and public appearances were lined up. Sam would be busy after Christmas, travelling from city to city and even to different countries to promote his third album, but we were all thrilled. When it came time to pick the first single from the three songs we had, I admit I cheated a bit. With my phone hidden under the table, I texted Sam.

If I told you it would make me really happy if the song you showed me at the hotel that day were the first single, would you say that’s the one you want?

His reply almost made me smile.

I can’t believe Miss “We-Can’t-Do-This” is really doing this!

I wrote back:

Please? They’re about to ask for your choice. I love that song, and I have a strong feeling it’ll be a huge hit!

My phone buzzed again, and I exhaled in relief.

Yes, Lena. I’ll tell them that one has to be the single. But you owe me.

Before putting my phone away, I replied:

Can’t wait to pay it back. Xx

The artwork from the Design team was also incredible! Our biggest concern was making sure the flowers matched the new songs, but when we spoke with Sam and his manager, they both assured us it would be perfect (Alex replied to my email; Sam texted me). I also managed to finalize the last details with the Japanese band, and the only thing left was to present it. After that, according to Jeremy, I’d be free. I wasn’t sure I trusted him, but I was determined to step back from this project. I’d go as far as getting a doctor’s note citing high stress levels if I had to.

The gala was on Friday, so I decided to find a new dress after work. I didn’t want to spend too much, so I wandered around Eaton Centre, hoping to find something within my budget. Even though my usual style is more casual—ballet flats, jeans, and T-shirts—I wanted something stunning. And then I saw it, in a shop window whose name I couldn’t recall. The sparkle and long sleeves drew me in, but it was the back that truly shocked me when I got closer.

“Can I try that dress?” I asked the shopkeeper. She must have seen the excitement in my eyes because she smiled brightly and led me to the dressing rooms, handing me the dress.

Everything about it was perfect; it felt like it was made just for me. At first glance, it seemed classic: black, with a boat neckline and a slightly slim fit, adorned with sequins from top to bottom and on both sleeves.

It hugged my curves, the mermaid silhouette skimming down my legs and highlighting my not-so-modest behind. But the back… oh, the back was something else. The fabric ended just where my shoulders and arms met, plunging all the way down, leaving my entire back exposed. It stopped only three fingers above my butt. With every movement, the gown sparkled, but it was nothing compared to how it made me feel.

My first thought was how Noah would have reacted. He would never have let me wear something like this. If he was in a good mood, he’d say it wasn’t suitable for a decent, married woman. In a bad mood, his comments would be far worse. Remembering that, I started to undress, but then I stopped. Noah wasn’t around anymore, and I wasn’t that woman anymore. I was in control of my life, had a successful career at Icon Records, and paid my own bills. I could even say I had a decent relationship with another man.

Without a second thought, I slipped the dress back on and smiled at the reflection. I felt powerful, sexy, and confident. The way the soft fabric clung to my body made me feel invincible and unbreakable.

Even though it cost more than I’d planned, I bought the dress. It was a gift to the new, liberated Elena, the one who survived an abusive marriage and was finally moving on. I left the store feeling almost euphoric. Instead of heading home, I browsed for some shoes and accessories. Passing by a high-end furniture store, I spotted a huge L-shaped couch that I knew someone would love. I snapped a photo and sent it to Sam.

Found this couch at Eaton Centre! I think it’d look great in your living room, near the windows.

The advantage of being only one hour ahead was that I didn’t have to wait long for a response.

Wow, that thing is massive! It could probably eat a person whole! Could you check if it’s comfortable and ask for the dimensions, please? And what are you doing at Eaton?

I ignored his last question. It wasn’t his business what I was or wasn’t doing. Instead of answering, I went into the store. A cheerful salesperson approached me, and I asked about the couch, sitting down to test it out. Honestly, it was more comfortable than I’d imagined.

It’s so comfy I could live on this couch! And the guy says it’s a contemporary design, whatever that means.

Seconds later, he texted back.

Decision made. That’s our couch. I’ll have the office handle it. Thanks! 3

Sam’s team and the salesperson handled the details. They discussed payment and delivery, and I realized how practical—and boring—celebrity life could be. Picking out furniture should be fun, right? Going to the store, testing things out, imagining them in your space. But for celebrities, all it took was a call and it was done. Cold, distant, weird. But it wasn’t my problem or my couch, so I shouldn’t care, right?

A little later, I bought some black heels and accessories. Then that familiar number popped up on my screen again.

“How mad would you be if I told you I got you a gift?” Sam’s voice was both anxious and nervous.

“Well, hello! Yes, I’m doing great, thanks for asking. I’m glad you’re okay too,” I teased.

“Elena.” His grumble made me smile.

“I don’t know. Probably very mad. But tell me what you bought, and I’ll decide.”

He hesitated, and I rolled my eyes. If you know someone will be upset, why do it anyway?

“I got you a pair of earrings,” he murmured. “They’re simple, but since I’m sure you won’t go to the gala with me, I wanted to be there with you in some way.”

I almost rolled my eyes at how sweet he was.

“Right.” I took a moment to process. Why did everyone suddenly want to go to this gala with me? “Well, thank you, I guess. And you’ll be there too, it’s not like we won’t see each other.”

“Yeah.” I could almost hear him smiling. “But you won’t be there as my date. So I thought this would be a way to go with you without actually being with you. You’re not taking anyone, right?”

I bit my lower lip. “See, about that… I do have a date.” He exhaled sharply. “And I can’t wait to introduce you two. He’s amazing; you’ll see.”

Silence. I glanced at the screen to make sure I hadn’t lost the connection.

“Still there?” I asked, and he chuckled.

“I love how you avoid using my name, just in case.”

I rolled my eyes. “I hate you.”

“I don’t.” Those simple words sent shivers down my spine. “Call me Philip or Romeo, Elena. Those are my other names. Just promise me you’re not going with Rento, or I swear I’ll shove these earrings down his throat.”

I grimaced. “God, no. He tried to ask me, but my date beat him to it. I wasn’t available when that piece of trash tried.”

“Good. I hope you have a great time at the gala,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

“I hope we both do.”

I kept walking for a bit longer so we could keep talking before I had to head to the subway. I missed him—his humour, his easy laughter. I couldn’t wait to have Sam back in town in a few days.

I completely nailed the Japanese band’s presentation. Everything went even better than I’d hoped, and when they mentioned keeping me on the project, Jeremy finally stepped in and confirmed that my part was done. They got what they wanted—the best employee in the company to create a marketing plan for their band. Now, I could pass it on to another team and get back to my life. Rento’s disappointment was obvious, and I felt like dancing on the table, I was so thrilled.

After the meeting, I decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator in our nine-story building. I heard my phone ring and checked the message:

I’m home!

I stumbled a bit and nearly fell, grabbing the banister just in time to keep my phone from flying out of my hand. My heart raced as I considered my options. I could head straight over and stop missing him, or I could pretend to be focused on work and meet Sam later at his new place.

I’ll be there soon!

I stopped by Jeremy’s office and told him I wasn’t feeling well. He was in a good mood, so he told me to go home, rest, and enjoy the success of the presentation. I let my team know I’d be out until Monday and left. When I reached the building’s lounge, another message popped up.

There’s a car waiting for you outside.

It felt like a scene from a movie. One of his security team members got out of the car when he saw me and opened the door. He couldn’t hide his satisfied smile, and I just nodded before getting in. We exchanged a few words before he dropped me off at the garage of a sleek building, seventeen minutes after leaving Icon Records. I took the elevator and entered the code for the top floor. The ride felt like forever, and I thought I might faint. My heart was hammering so loudly I was sure the whole building could hear it. Never in my life had I imagined I’d be doing something like this. Realizing I’d left work early just to see Sam made me laugh nervously. It was ridiculous, reckless, and impulsive, but so thrilling that I didn’t care about the potential fallout. I just wanted to be with him.

The elevator stopped on the tenth floor, and when the doors opened, I took a deep breath and stepped out. It felt like being in a hotel—long white corridors with grey carpeting and doors on either side. I walked to his apartment, hesitating in front of the grey door with red accents and the apartment number in crisp white. The modern design was intimidating, and I almost turned back, but my hand moved on its own and knocked. Sam opened the door with a smile.

“Welcome,” he said, pulling me inside and closing the door behind us.

I looked around in awe. The apartment was enormous, probably three times bigger than my house. The entryway led to a spacious open floor plan with sleek laminated flooring that stretched as far as I could see, perfectly complementing the grey walls. The ceiling had plaster moulding with recessed lights in all the right places. Beyond the entryway was what seemed to be a bedroom, while to the right was a small closet with sliding doors, designed for winter coats. Sam took my coat and hung it up, then handed me a pair of loafers so I could get comfortable. A few steps further, we were in a sleek L-shaped kitchen, right next to the closet. An island with two stools stood in the centre, perfect for quick meals. The cabinets were a deep, elegant brown, contrasting beautifully with the beige quartz countertops. Two of the upper cabinets had frosted glass, adding a modern touch to the warm wood. The fridge was seamlessly integrated, hidden behind large doors, and the rest of the appliances were stainless steel. I held my breath when I saw the cooktop—something I’d always dreamed of having. Across from the kitchen was a small dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows and a spacious balcony.

The whole apartment was open-concept, with walls only for the bedroom and bathroom, leaving the rest of the space wide and free. I smiled when I spotted the white couch I’d picked out in the corner of the living room.

“You were right,” Sam said, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers, making my heart skip a beat. That small gesture made me feel protected, like nothing else mattered but us. “It’s the perfect size and so freaking comfortable! If I hadn’t already bought a bed, I’d sleep on it forever.”

The couch was near another floor-to-ceiling window with a stunning view. Sam led me to the opposite side and pointed out one of Toronto’s most famous landmarks: the CN Tower.

He opened the window, and a cool breeze swept over my face. I leaned against the railing and took in the city I’d made my home. Sam wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my ear softly. I closed my eyes, smiling like an idiot, feeling chills run through me. “You have an amazing view,” I murmured.

“I know,” he said, his gaze still on me.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m talking about the city, not me, Martin,” I grumbled, and he grinned.

“Right now, you’re what makes this view worthwhile.”

I looked into his eyes and sighed. The depth in his gaze pulled me in like he could see straight into my soul. Not wanting to waste another second, he turned me to face him and pressed me against the window, his hands cradling my face. Our lips met, and I couldn’t hold back the longing I’d felt in his absence. Words couldn’t describe how much I wanted things to be different, how much I wished we could be together without complications. When he held my hand, everything made sense. It felt like all the struggles I’d faced had led me to him. Nothing else mattered—not the judgment we’d face, not our fears, not even the age difference. I just wanted him—always him, and nothing more.

Our kiss was intense, filled with desire and need. His hands moved from my face, exploring my body, gripping, stroking, and pulling me closer. It was the longest, most intense kiss we’d ever shared, overflowing with… love? I pushed the thought away, deciding not to build up expectations. When we finally paused for breath and looked at each other, we both started laughing. His lips were swollen and red, and he was breathing heavily. I probably looked the same—or maybe worse, with my heart pounding so loudly it felt like it was playing its own drum solo.

I pulled him by his shirt and rested my forehead against his chest. Sam held me close. “Has your bed been delivered?” I asked, biting my lip, craving him in every way.

He laughed. “They’re supposed to bring it by the end of the day. But we have the couch.”

I glanced at the couch beside us and smiled. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? I have great taste in furniture. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, it’s perfect. But it’ll look even better with you lying on it, completely naked,” he whispered in my ear, making me shiver.

He lifted me effortlessly, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. We kissed again, deeper this time, as he carried me. Within seconds, my back was on the soft couch, and his body hovered over mine. Sam gazed at me with so much affection that my heart ached. He touched my lips with his finger, and I lightly sucked on it, making him groan.

He kissed me again, trailing down to my neck and collarbone, while his hands deftly unbuttoned my pants. I was lost in the sensations he stirred in me, his lips at my ear distracting me so completely that I didn’t even notice when his hand slipped into my underwear, gently stroking me. I let out a loud moan, and he smirked.

“Looks like we only get scandalous during sex, eh, Elena?”

“Maybe it’s because we’re just that good at it,” I teased.

His proud smile faded as he kissed me again, his fingers working their magic. Just as I was about to climax, he pulled away, and I groaned in frustration.

“You’re a bit overdressed for my taste,” he teased, sliding my pants and underwear off, leaving me bare from the waist down.

Sam kissed his way back up, starting at my feet and working his way to my knees and thighs until he was settled between them. When I felt his mouth on me, I gripped his hair and held my breath. “For fuck’s sake, Martin,” I gasped.

I could feel his smile against my skin, and it only made me want him more. There was no better sight than Sam’s head between my legs, making me feel things that seemed impossible even in God’s eyes. His hands slid up my body, under my t-shirt, unhooking my bra and freeing my breasts. His fingers teased my nipples, pinching just right, while his tongue worked its magic. The combination of his touch and mouth sent me into an intense orgasm that made my entire body tremble.

When I came back down to Earth, he was lying beside me, a satisfied grin on his face. “Miss me?” Sam asked, brushing his nose against mine.

“A little,” I teased, before pushing him playfully. “But where’s the rest, Martin? We’ve been apart for weeks. I’m not done yet.”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling. “You’d better be ready for a whole weekend of wild sex, Elena. And for the record, I’m nowhere near finished.”

I smiled and pushed him back onto the couch. “Good, because I didn’t fake being sick at work and run off for nothing.” I straddled his stomach, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Nothing? You call this chaos you’ve caused in my living room nothing?” he mocked, pretending to be shocked.

I shrugged with a smile.

“It was a solid start,” he defended, but I silenced him with a kiss.

He stayed quiet as I undressed him, watching me with those intense eyes. Every now and then, our gazes locked, and he’d give me a shy smile. I could see the desire in his eyes, the flush of his cheeks. I kissed and nibbled along his body as I removed his clothes, mirroring his own movements as if to show him how he made me feel. His body was different—more defined but still lean. So impossibly hot. My hands roamed over him, purposefully grazing his inner thighs just to see his reaction. I teased, acting like I was going to use my hands, and watched him tense up, completely turned on. But instead, I knelt in front of him and took him into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispered. His head between my legs was my favourite sight, but his moans were my favourite sound. He threaded his fingers through my hair. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said through gritted teeth, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“There are worse ways to go, Martin. Don’t complain.”

He bit his lower lip, which only urged me on. I took him all the way to my throat, and Sam clenched his fist. “Elena…” he practically sang my name.

When I knew he was close, I pulled away and looked up at him innocently.

“What the hell?” he groaned, staring at me, stunned.

“Where are the condoms in this place?” I asked, smiling like I hadn’t just denied him an orgasm.

Frustrated, he sprinted to the kitchen island where his wallet was. He grabbed a condom and tossed it to me, making me laugh. Determined to keep driving him crazy, I put the condom on him using only my lips. Just as I was about to take control again, he flipped me onto the couch.

“You’re dangerous when you’re in charge,” he chuckled. With a swift move, Sam pulled off my t-shirt and bra, removing the last barriers between us.

Before I could say anything, he entered me, making me gasp.

“You okay?” he asked, nibbling the corner of my mouth.

I just nodded, and he smiled.

Sam started slow, his movements deliberate, but that didn’t last long. We were desperate for each other, craving that shared explosion of pleasure. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to feel his muscles tense beneath my fingers as he moaned my name.

“Elena, I…” he began, but I covered his mouth with my hand.

“Some things don’t need to be said, Martin.”

We held each other’s gaze for a few intense seconds, our breaths mingling. I knew if I didn’t stop him, we’d both end up saying things that would change everything. When I felt his lips curve into a smile beneath my hand, I slid it down to the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. I couldn’t hold out much longer and soon climaxed around him, moaning softly as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting his weight rest on me.

We stayed like that for a while, his head on my chest, my fingers threading through his hair. Neither of us spoke until his phone broke the silence. He sighed and got up, searching through our discarded clothes. While Sam took the call, I slipped into my underwear and threw on his shirt before flopping back onto the couch.

“My bed’s here,” he said with a grin.

“Great. More furniture for us to break in.”

He laughed, leaning down to give me a quick kiss. “You should probably wear something other than my shirt. The delivery guys are coming up, and it wouldn’t be great for them to see you like this.”

“Let them look,” I teased, stretching out on the couch.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” He tossed me my pants, and I started getting dressed. When I moved to take off his shirt and hand it back, he stopped me. “Keep it. I’ll just put on my jacket. Want one? It’s getting cold in here.”

He glanced at the thermostat, frowning at it like it was broken.

“Sam,” I called out. When he turned, I gestured to the open window.

He rolled his eyes, laughing as he went to close it. We’d been so caught up that we hadn’t even noticed.

When the delivery guys showed up with the king-size bed, we were both dressed, and the apartment looked decent—no clothes scattered, cushions back in place.

After they left with a generous tip from Sam, we exchanged a look and ran to the bedroom, laughing like teenagers. We never seemed to get enough of each other.