8. CHAPTER 8
8
TYLER
That asshole is certifiably crazy. I can’t believe he sniffed me! I’ve never had that happen before. Ivan’s behavior is worse than I expected it would be and I did not expect it to start as soon as they opened the door. I get the sense he’s been planning this. Is that what this is? A weird joke on the new guy? I’ve never met someone whose outer shell presents itself as a warm and happy person who is actually a fucking demon who wants to make your life hell. All while doing it with a smile. It's a beautiful smile. Ugh. I must admit, I didn’t miss the tingles that fluttered through my body when I felt his breath on my neck. What the hell is going on? Do they pump pheromones into this house or what?
“Tyler?” Dima says and I look up at him from the seat I’ve taken at his desk. Shit.
“Yes?”
“I said, ‘Do you want to get started?’ I only have thirty minutes before I have to leave.”
“Of course. Yes. Sorry. Let me get the plans out.”
I remove my drawings from my case, all the while feeling Ivan watching me from the side. I’m desperate to look, but don’t want to give the prick any satisfaction that he’s getting to me. I lay the plans out on the large desk, and get down to explaining the vision I’ve laid out.
After twenty minutes, Dima agrees to my ideas and is happy to go ahead with the proposed plans, which has me breathing a sigh of relief. My boss was all in my ear this morning about how I needed to get this right, and luckily I’ve hit the nail on the head, giving me one less worry. My biggest concern is actually working with Ivan. He has remained in the same spot since we walked in here and I wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t blinked. I don’t know why I’ve captured his attention, but I want to wiggle away from it as he screams danger from every pore. Not that I would be interested if he didn’t. I’m not exactly experienced with guys, but even if I was to entertain being with a man, the last person I would pick is a muscled criminal with a defective personality that has every red flag flashing in front of him. Clearing my drawings away, Dima leaves me in the care of Ivan.
“Thanks for coming out here, Tyler. Your contact is with Ivan now, but you can contact me in emergencies. Ivan will see you out,” Dima says and walks out of the room. A firm dismissal if ever I’d heard one.
My hands tremble as I try to neatly pack away my drawings. I hate people watching me like this and it makes me anxious as hell. After what feels like an eternity of silence as I manage to pack away my things, I turn to see Ivan standing beside the door, assessing me intently. The urge to look down at my clothes—as he now has me paranoid that I have something on me—is overwhelming, but I manage to refrain. He takes two large steps until he stands in front of me, nearly toe to toe. I feel nauseous.
“Would you like me to carry your things to your car?”
I frown at the bizarre question. Is he trying to insinuate I’m a weakling? The dreamy smile you read about in romance novels is in full effect on his annoyingly handsome fucking face. I want to punch him.
“Why would I need you to carry my stuff? Do I not look capable?”
“Your hands are shaking. I don’t want your nerves to make you clumsy.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“I’m just being a gentleman.”
“No you’re not. You’re patronizing me and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop. We have to work together and I can’t deal with this…this asshole attitude,” I say and immediately regret my words as the smile on Ivan’s face has fallen. If I didn’t already know he was human, I would think someone had reset a robot to factory settings.
Ivan reaches his hand out and rubs his thumb over my mouth and he isn’t gentle. I’m frozen.
“You have quite the bitchy little mouth, Ty.”
I swat his hand away from my face and take a step back, but he follows me.
“My name is Tyler and don’t touch me.”
My back hits the far wall of the office and I’m cornered, trapped in a house full of murderous psychos, and the biggest one is in front of me.
Ivan pushes his index finger into my chest as I grab his wrist.
“You’re cute,” he says, and sniffs the side of my neck. I can’t help the sharp intake of breath as he does it. My dick makes a small move to awaken, but I think the shock prevents a fully hard mast. I try to calm my breathing without looking obvious as he moves back and turns without another glance and walks toward the door. What the fuck?
“Come on. Time to go, Ty.”
Fucker. Only Chase, my brother, calls me Ty. I only allow it as he has called me that since he was a toddler. I think it makes me sound like a teen that's not to be taken seriously. But, I decide not to correct him, as ignoring him will hopefully make him stop. I follow him out of the office and to the front of the house. Ivan opens the door for me and I can't help but stare at him as I leave. I’ve seen hundreds of people with brown eyes over the years, but something about Ivan’s has me transfixed. They are what I can only describe as a sensual pool of velvet coffee. Like they are the door to the true Ivan. Whilst they are beautiful, they don't shine with any life or feeling. And that scares the shit out of me.
“Give me your phone,” he says as I’m about to leave.
“Why?”
“So I can give you my number in case you need to contact me, you know, since we will be working closely together.”
“Fine.”
I remove my phone from my pants pocket and unlock it before passing it to Ivan’s large meaty hands. He looks down and quickly enters his number, before passing it back to me.
“I’ll be in touch,” I say, and then haul my ass out of there. Fortunately I don’t fuck up unlocking my car and getting inside as he watches me from the doorway. I pretend not to notice him and speed out of there, desperate to get back to the office to decipher what the fuck just happened in that house.