Page 6 of My Hunger, Your Soul

“Ivan…” Dima says, his voice lower in warning.

Ivan smiles at me then turns to leave the room. This is getting super weird. Fight or flight is kicking in, and flight is winning.

“Sorry about that. Ivan can be a pain in the ass but you’ll get used to him. He will be overseeing the project when you start, so all questions will go through him.”

Great.

The door opens and a large hand rests on my shoulder, causing me to jolt at the touch. I look up where the hulking Ivan is smiling again at me, his large coffee brown eyes dancing with amusement as he thrusts a cold bottle of water into my hands. The moment stretches and I’m so beyond my comfort zone. I don’t know what to say or do.

“Would you like me to feed it to you?” he asks, and I cough at his question.

“What?” I splutter, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Ivan, shut the fuck up and stand over there by the door and behave,” Dima says, as Ivan just watches me. His tongue peeks out of his mouth, licking the plump lower lip that's surrounded by a perfectly manicured short black beard. A glint in his eyes flashes as he glides his tongue over his lips. Holy shit, is that a tongue piercing? Before I can assess further he stands and moves over to the door, leaning against it, crossing his large arms across his chest. I don’t think he has blinked yet. I open the bottle of cold water and gulp down a healthy couple of swallows while avoiding eye contact with either Ivan or Dima. I bet they can see my pulse beating through my neck. This is the weirdest and most alarming situation I’ve ever been in. After the cold water soothes my throat and sends a chill to my brain, I solely focus on Dima, and ignore the crazy guy behind me who I can feel staring at me. What the fuck is his problem?

“So, Tyler, I’m sure you’re already aware of the plans we have in mind for the property, right?”

“Yes. My boss briefed me that you wanted three standalone single-story properties at the rear of this property?”

“Yes. Each house has only one bedroom and an open-plan living space. We have a lot of land, so we can have them far enough apart for privacy.”

“Did you have any specific design ideas for the builds?”

“No. Just keep it in line with the style of the main house.”

“No problem. I’ll need to take a look at the land so I know the scale of what I’m dealing with, measurements, that kind of thing. Then I’ll head back to the office and draw up a design within the next week, and then we can arrange another meeting to see if you’re happy.”

“Great. Follow me, and I’ll show you the outside. Ivan, you stay here.”

We both stand and Ivan moves out of the way so Dima can open the door, as I follow behind him, Ivan grabs my shoulder, pulling me to a stop.

“Please get your hands off me,” I say. I don’t know what the hell is going on with this guy, but he’s out of line grabbing me like this.

A deep chuckle rumbles out of Ivan, the vibrations of it send goosebumps over my skin. I’m worried he’s a psychopath, his behavior is far from normal, and I don’t feel comfortable with the attention he is insistent on giving me.

“Just being friendly,” he says, squeezing my shoulder, but not in what I would describe as an aggressive manner. Oh god, is he flirting with me?

“You can be friendly without touching me.”

“Don’t you like being touched, Tyler?”

“What? What kind of question is that?”

“Curious.”

“You’re a stranger, and it’s inappropriate.”

“You don't touch strangers? How do you hook up with anyone?”

“Okay, you’re crossing the line. Get your hand off me, or I’ll tell your boss I can’t work with you, and you’re harassing me.”Smooth Tyler, could you sound any more like a child?

“Oooh, you gonna tell my boss on me? You’re feisty, Tyler. I like it.”

Ivan lets go of my shoulder, his smile still in place, as he pushes past me and walks away like the past few surreal minutes didn't happen. Is he gonna kill me in my sleep?

“Tyler, are you coming?” Dima shouts from the hallway, reminding me of why I’m here. I rush along after him and remain professional throughout the rest of my visit. At least until I’m in my car and heading home, trying to work out what the fuck that was all about with Ivan.

5

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