The grin I’m flashed is one of obvious amusement.

“Geez, when you said boat sailing…I…I…”

I am not gonna fit in at this thing!

They are gonna know I don’t belong!

I don’t belong.

Cute dress, perfect shoes, strange Breakfast At Tiffany’s hat aside, nothing about me is going to fit in tonight.

Elias abruptly stops walking, places himself in front of me, and gently clasps my cheeks to assist in ceasing my spiraling.

There’s this mysterious thing about him where he somehow makes the earth stall on its axis. I mean, he looks at me when I speak like I’m all he sees.

All he hears.

His devoted attention both swiftly soothes and stokes my desire for him.

The blueness in his gaze brightens at the same time his grip lowers back to his side. “What were you expecting, Zel?”

This but not exactly this like.

I have the same feeling I did when we first met under false pretenses.

However, I made it through that.

I’m sure I can make it through this.

I stop myself from jerking a shoulder in response recalling that “dolls are not permitted to shrug”, something he drilled into me during our first week together. Instead, I toy with a few strands of hair and poorly confess, “I don’t know…something like a golf club but better?”

He laughs and a flurry of butterflies’ coast in my stomach in spite of my embarrassment.

“Elias.”

Around his continued chortles, he manages to question, “Yes?”

“Stop laughing at me!” I quietly squawk, not wanting to draw attention to us. “I expected a golf club place with a couple of boats. Not this Scrooge McDuck mansion and mega yachts.”

“Point?”

It takes a moment to calm my irked tone to ask, “Do you really think I belong here?”

“You belong wherever I can have you, little doll,” he sweetly states on a gentle touch of my long locks.

“So, it’s okay for you to call me that around all these people?”

The silly grin instantly falters.

“They know about your fetishes?”

His brow twitches in an almost hurt fashion.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Elias, I didn’t mean-”