Our Faked Love, CEO Don't Kiss Me

"Ugh, Hunter is here?" Stacey watched the man two tables away from them in the loud bar.

The music was blaring so loudly he was sure that the people four blocks over and down the street had throbbing eardrums. And yet, the moment those words had left his lips, he instantly knew it was a mistake. Hunter's head swiveled over, completely ignoring the men and women lounging around him and hanging off his every word. Instead, his eyes searched until they landed on Stacey, locking in with that unnerving gaze.

'O, shit,'

'He heard me. but he can't have… it's too loud in here.' Stacey thought

"He is staring at us," Stacey commented. His friend Ēn Chén sipped on his drink, then scoffed and put it back down on the large table in front of them. The table sat covered in a plethora of drinks and empty glasses filled with the remnants of someone else's liquor. They were the last couple of people left over from their work event, everyone else bailed to go off and do something else. To head home, to vomit in the streets. Go on crazy sexcapades. Literally, everyone was gone, just the two of them left from the entire thing. But the table still showed all the signs of the damage and excitement that had been going on a little over an hour before.

"Not us, you. He is staring at you." Ēn Chén corrected.

'Well, everyone but Hunter.'

Stacey watched Hunter, carefully, meticulously, but unable to argue with Ēn Chén's statement. Hunter grinned deviously at him and raised a singular eyebrow.

Stacey's stomach rolled forward with a satisfying growl and a lurching jump that he couldn't quite understand.

"Honestly, what is wrong with guys like that? They pull the attention of everyone in the room, but couldn't give a rat's ass if there is anyone there but themselves." Stacey snapped, aggravation pulling at the edges of his temper.

"That's exactly it, you summed it up right there. They," Ēn Chén stated, pointing at Hunter and his table full of bigshots. The huge names, with their tons of money, the kinda guys who worked with numbers so big it would make your head spin. He pointed at all of those goody two shoes. Making sure his gesture encompassed all of them.

"Theyyyy, well they don't care one iota about anything. None of them. Especially Hunter."

"You have been working at Pennington Pharmaceuticals for what? Five years now? You work in the same office as him, and have your lunch like thirty feet away, with only a glass wall between you guys. Yet, the dude has never even been able to remember your name.

"He can't remember you either. Kay." Stacey pointed out flatly..

"That's because the only face and name someone like Hunter remembers is himself. Or some huge clientele. There is over thirty million dollars in revenue being made in a single fiscal year. He doesn't have time to remember the person who works on the floor below in research and development. Even if you do share the same coffee and lounge room as him."

Stacey nodded, still stirring uneasily in his chair. Hunter had begun talking to someone beside him, but Stacey could see he wasn't even pretending to keep up decorum and was eagle-eyed, his peripherals glued to Stacey instead.

"True. Very true," He said slowly, sipping his drink.

"Still, it's odd he came to one of these again. He normally only comes to the Christmas event and that disgusting Valentine's Party."

"Actually, right now, it's not that odd. See the girl next to him, that's Hailey Lane,"

"The daughter of Blaire Lane?" Stacey's eyebrows shot up, interest piqued.

"Yes, the heiress herself is here to cement Daddy dearest's possible investment. And I am sure Hunter thought that would mean partying and clubbing would be enough. He is probably not wrong. They don't even need to court them at all. Everyone already knows they are a shoo-in for twenty percent equity already. The niceties are just that. Heck, this is probably just a way for Hunter to get into the girl's pants. Or maybe that's what showing someone a good time means nowadays. Honestly, the Lane's aren't doing this for capital, anyway. They don't need stakes in the company, they have enough money already. Everyone knows the way to Hunter is through his visceral urges. No doubt this is a ploy at an acquisition of a different sort. One that ends in either a Hunter hunting, or a Hunter being tied up… In holy matrimony."

"You sure know how to put things, Kay. Your assessment is almost too honest."

"It's high stakes, and it's not dog-eat-dog, it's a serial killer who kills the dog and shows off the carcass as the prize."

Stacey grimaced. "Is Hunter really so twisted? I mean, why steal someone else's cake if you have a perfectly good one in front of you already."

"Because you don't say no to a man like Hunter… So if he wants his cake, your cake, and everyone else's cake you damn well better give it to him.

Stacey nodded, realizing he had no other choice but to agree with Ēn Chén's assessment.

"Let me go grab some more drinks. Be right back, okay." Ēn Chén said standing up, then pushed off into the crowd before he could give him any sort of response to his statement.

Stacey nodded offhandedly, but continued to watch Hunter.

Watch the way Hunter's hand moved, the way his fingers slid across the glass, lithe and chic even in the small movement. Watching as Hunter threw his long dark locks back, shaking his head before uncrossing his legs and raising an eyebrow. He leaned forward for a second, and Stacey's stomach lurched as he followed the movement carefully, caught in the way his arms moved.

'There is a sort of silent beauty about him, a strong, majestic feeling.' Stacey groaned as he caught himself. He shot back his drink quickly.

'What am I even thinking about right now?' Stacey wondered, rubbing the palms of his hands on his pants before looking away.

'God, how can I not stare when I can sense he is looking at me? But heck, when did I even start staring back?'