(Avery's POV)

Five days. It had been five long, frustrating days since the incident in Rick's study. And in all that time, I had managed to avoid him. No awkward run-ins, no lingering looks, no heated tension crackling in the air. Just silence. Which, honestly, I was thankful for.

I didn't know how I'd handle seeing him after the way he had acted. He was constantly on my mind, and I hated it. Every time I thought about how he had pulled me into him like he needed me—only to toss me aside and tell me to leave in that cold, dismissive way—I felt my blood boiling.

How dare he?

He was the one who grabbed me, the one who almost kissed me. I didn't ask for that. I didn't ask him to look at me like he was starving. And then to act like it was my fault? To tell me to get out like I was some sort of... I don't know, a pizza delivery guy who showed up at the wrong address and kept ringing the doorbell anyway?

Well, okay, maybe I had kind of asked for it. I mean, let's be real—who could resist him? That jawline, those eyes... the way he moved like he owned every damn room he walked into. It was infuriating. And sure, I may have stood a little too close, may have let myself get a little lost in the moment. But it was Rick. Anyone with a pulse would get a little weak-kneed around him.

"Ugh," I muttered under my breath, pacing back and forth in my room.

I tossed a glare at the closed door as if that would somehow make him feel it.

"You ARE an asshole, Rick."

I felt a surge of anger rising in my chest again. He had no right to pull me in like that only to push me away. And now here I am, five days later, still fuming.

I couldn't even look at him. I had done a great job avoiding him, not that it was hard—he was barely around. He was always working, always hiding behind Maria's case—which, honestly, I didn't complain about—or some mission or whatever else he used to escape. He is a workaholic, so there is no reason to think I'd bump into him today.

It is the weekend, sure, but Rick's idea of a weekend probably involved staring at files in his study or disappearing to his office. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and sighed, brushing a hand through my hair.

You'll be fine, I told myself. Just stay out of his way like you had been doing. He probably hadn't even realized I was avoiding him. Though part of me wondered if he noticed.

I finally dragged myself out of my room and headed to the kitchen, hoping to find some sort of distraction or solace in a cup of coffee. What I found, however, was far from peaceful.

Bryce and Fred were in the midst of an all-out pancake battle. George, the poor guy, was trying to cook, but his attempts at flipping pancakes were continually interrupted by the two of them.

"Move! I saw it first!" Bryce shouted, shoving Fred aside.

"No way, I was here before you!" Fred retorted, grabbing at the spatula in George's hand.

George, with a look of amused resignation, finally pulled the pancake from the pan and placed it on a plate. That was all the invitation Bryce and Fred needed. They lunged at each other, both grabbing for the pancake with the kind of determination usually reserved for more serious matters.

In a flurry of elbows and shirts tugging, Bryce managed to get his hands on the pancake first. He lifted it triumphantly into the air, a victorious smirk spreading across his face. But Fred was quick on his heels, jumping at Bryce with surprising agility.

With a swift move, Fred yanked the pancake out of Bryce's grasp, tearing it in half. He stuffed one half into his mouth with a satisfied grin and stuck his tongue out at Bryce, who was left glaring and scoffing.

I stood there, dumbfounded, watching this bizarre display unfold. The sight of them acting like children over a pancake was almost enough to make me forget why I was avoiding Rick in the first place.

Almost.

I shook my head and settled onto one of the stools at the kitchen island, trying to ignore the chaotic scene. As soon as I sat down, Bryce and Fred turned their attention to me, their faces lighting up with exaggerated, innocent smiles. Then, they exchanged another glare before returning their focus to me.

"Seriously, guys?" I said, my tone dripping with disbelief.

"Do you really call yourselves secret operatives who work hard for the safety of people and the nation?"

The two of them exchanged a knowing look before smiling proudly.

"Yep," Fred said with a cheeky grin.

"That's right," Bryce added, giving me a thumbs-up.

George, who had been quietly working on a new batch of pancakes, turned around and chuckled.

"You know, these two actually got into huge trouble during one of their missions because they couldn't stop arguing over who would shoot the guy in front of them."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Oh my God, what happened then? Did someone get shot?"

George's smile widened.

"Nope. Rick ended up shooting the guy himself and then hung these two idiots upside down on a tree for six hours without food or water."

I gaped at Bryce and Fred.

"For six hours?"

The two of them looked genuinely remorseful, making sad puppy-dog faces.

"Yeah, well," George continued, "Don't let them fool you. They had pocket knives with them. When Rick stopped watching them, they managed to free themselves and went MIA. They didn't show up to work for two days."

Fred piped up, his voice defensive.

"Rick wasn't mad at us for that."

Bryce nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, he just left us there because he wanted us to get ourselves out. He was being a little bit kind, actually."

George snorted, shaking his head as he went back to flipping pancakes.

"Ah, don't buy their story. He wasn't exactly pleased with their behaviour."

I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. Bryce leaned casually against the counter, his eyes suddenly gleaming with mischief.

"Hey, Avery," he began, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Remember how Rick swooped in and dragged you away while we were bonding during dinner a few days ago? What was that all about?"

Fred, who had been quietly observing the scene, couldn't help but smirk in response, exchanging a look with Bryce. Even George, who had been flipping pancakes with the concentration of a scientist in a lab, turned off the stove and joined us at the kitchen island, an eager smile on his face.

I sighed, trying to ignore the conspiratorial looks they were giving each other.

"Oh, so now you're all curious about that, huh?" I said, narrowing my eyes at them. "Seriously, don't give me that look."

Bryce raised an eyebrow.

"What look?"

"You know," I said, pointing at all three of them, "that look you're all giving me right now. Like you're in on some big secret and waiting for me to spill the beans."

Fred and Bryce exchanged glances, their smirks widening. George, still leaning against the counter, chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"That look?" Bryce asked, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "We don't know what you're talking about."

I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, come on. You're all looking at me like I'm the last person on Earth who's going to dish out some juicy gossip."

Fred snorted, leaning in with a playful grin. "Juicy gossip, huh? Sounds like we might be missing out on something good."

I shook my head, unable to suppress a laugh.

"You guys are hopeless. Rick was just being a TOTAL ASSHOLE that night."

Bryce's eyes widened with mock concern.

"Oops, what happened?"

Panic surged through me. I had completely forgotten that these guys shouldn't know anything about what happened between Rick and me. Come on, it was totally embarrassing. I'd rather walk barefoot across a field of Legos than spill the details of almost kissing Rick, only for him to backpedal and kick me out of the study.

I tried to look away, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

"Nothing major," I said, forcing a chuckle.

"We were just talking about my real parents, and apparently, Rick happened to know them... Hey, does Rick have, like, bipolar disorder or something? One minute he's calm and somewhat bearable, and the next, he's cold and rude."

I quickly changed the subject, hoping to divert their attention.

The guys exchanged looks, their smirks fading slightly.

"Oooo... that's a mystery even for us," Fred said. "He's just like that."

Bryce nodded in agreement.

"Well, all I know is that he's been alone since he was about eight. He went to a boarding school and avoided his uncle for reasons we still don't understand. I think that's what made him so reserved and cold. I first met him during the Agency Training. Trust me, he was the only guy who didn't get along with the others and always preferred to be alone. I had to practically beg him to let me sit with him during breaks. Getting close to him was like pulling teeth."

I listened, intrigued. "Wow, that sounds like quite the challenge."

"Yeah," Bryce said, grinning.

"He's a tough nut to crack. He nearly shot me once just for throwing him a surprise birthday party. The guy absolutely loathes birthdays."

I let out a low "hmmm" and leaned in, curiosity piqued.

"So, how did you guys end up in the agency?"

The three of them exchanged knowing looks, leaning in conspiratorially. Bryce gave me a sideways grin.

"Alright, we'll spill the beans, but remember, you didn't hear it from us."

George chimed in, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"It's highly confidential. We might have to kill you after telling you."

I shot him a sceptical glare, nudging them to continue. Fred finally spoke up.

"Okay, okay. So, we were all top-notch FBI and CBI agents, but for various reasons—well, mistakes, really—we got the boot. This agency picks up fired agents, trains them, and turns them into special operatives. Not every ex-agent makes the cut, though. Some are just... not good."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"So, you're saying you made a really spectacular mistake and got fired? That's kind of impressive. I mean, it's like I could just set off a few fireworks in the office and still end up as a secret operative. Wow."

Bryce chuckled.

"Not quite. It's more about the circumstances. The common thread between us is that we were fired for defying our superiors in major cases. Sometimes, the directors don't give a damn about safety and we chose to act on what we thought was right—even if it meant getting fired."

George nodded, adding, "The agency recruits people who are fiercely loyal to the people and the nation, and who are willing to go to extreme lengths to keep them safe. That's us."

I looked at them seriously, nodding slowly.

"I think I get you guys, but it's a bit..."

Fred finished for me, "Confusing..."

I nodded more vigorously. "Yeah. So, this agency you work for now is like a private agency?"

Fred jumped in, "Exactly, well, the agency was created by one of the greatest FBI agents of his time, about twenty years ago. He got fired for going against his director's orders. He tried to save innocent refugees while going after terrorists. Sometimes, when you're doing something good, there are people who just don't like it."

I nodded slowly, absorbing the gravity of their words.

"I get it. So, is there still some sort of connection between the FBI, the CBI, and your agency?"

Bryce chimed in.

"We do have links with the FBI and CBI, but it's not direct. More like... a shadow connection. We handle cases that the FBI or CBI can't crack. Sometimes, we even dig into new crimes worldwide, and if we sense there's more to it, we barge in undercover. We don't exactly get along with the Feds or the Bureau. They despise us with a passion, especially since we often get handed high-profile cases that the government decides to pass off to us. We make our own rules, and it's all up to our new boss."

I raised an eyebrow.

"And that would be..."

"The great stone-faced Rick Conrad, yes," Bryce said, his tone lowering to a more serious note.

"But honestly, I'm not sure how he got recruited. He was fired for a—".

He paused, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper, "—a brutal murder."

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Alright, y'all—that was a rollercoaster. 🚀 Avery avoiding Rick like the plague? Bryce and Fred acting like literal children over a pancake? And let's not forget the juicy backstory drop about Rick and the agency. 👀

But let's talk about that last line. Rick fired for a brutal murder?! Excuse me, Bryce, you can't just drop that bomb and walk away. 😭💀

Also, let's take a moment to appreciate how Avery went from fuming at Rick to getting deep inside the agency's secrets real quick. 😂

💬 Drop your thoughts in the comments—what do you think about Rick's past? And do you think Avery can really keep avoiding him? (Spoiler: She absolutely cannot. 😏)

Next chapter coming soon! Love y'all! ❤️✨