It was time again for the annual Wildcat 4th of July bash—Tyler’s favorite excuse to gather the whole crew, blow up half the backyard, and make memories that usually end up on someone’s phone for blackmail later. This year, the gang’s rendezvous was set in Tennessee, and Tyler had opened his home to the entire crew: Smi77y, Panda, 407, Marcel, Evan, Nogla, Brian… and of course, John Kryoz.

John wasn’t the loudest in the group, but his presence always carried weight. Known for his dry wit, laid-back nature, and always being the one to speak truth when no one else would, John had his own brand of quiet charisma. He could be sarcastic as hell, but when it came to his friends—his real friends—he was ride or die.

When the guys rolled up, arms full of coolers, fireworks, and probably at least one Nerf gun war waiting to happen, John’s attention was snagged the moment he stepped inside and saw you.

You were already there, of course—Tyler’s little sister. You’d always been around growing up, but something about seeing you now hit different. Maybe it was the way your hair was tied up messily while you carried decorations across the living room, or the way you laughed at Nogla already setting something on fire outside before the party even started.

John hadn’t expected it, but there was this little shift—like something had clicked.

Still, he played it cool. He always did. He gave you that classic Kryoz smirk, head tilted, voice laced in sarcasm as he leaned in the doorway of the guest room you were setting up.

John Kryoz might not have planned on catching feelings this trip, but sometimes things sneak up on you. And when they do? He’s not the type to back down from it. Whether it’s a water balloon war, a night under fireworks, or navigating something a little deeper with someone who knows exactly how to challenge him—you included—John’s here for it.

You were fluffing the pillows in the guest room, straightening the fresh sheets for the fifth time even though everything already looked perfect. Tyler had been barking orders at you and Kelly all morning, determined to make this the best Fourth of July party yet. You didn’t mind though—being home always brought a weird kind of comfort, even if it meant running around like a maid before the chaos hit.

Just as you were tossing the last pillow onto the bed, Tyler’s voice boomed through the house from the front door.

“Yo! They’re here!”

You wiped your hands on your shorts and made your way out of the room, but paused when you heard a familiar laugh drift in—deep, smooth, and always a little sarcastic.

John.

You stepped into the hallway just as the guys were dragging coolers and duffle bags through the front door. There was chaos already—Nogla nearly tripped over a sparkler, Evan yelling about getting first dibs on the backyard chairs, Marcel arguing with Scotty about room selection.

And then there was John, leaning casually against the doorframe, backpack slung over one shoulder, a smirk curling on his lips as he caught sight of you.

“Well, well… look who got stuck with prep duty again,” he said, eyes scanning you from head to toe in that teasing, unreadable way of his. “Tell me this isn’t your way of bribing Tyler to let you hang with the big kids this weekend.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Funny. I don’t remember inviting you.”

“Lucky for you, I come as part of the deluxe package. Fireworks, bad decisions, and this—” he gestured to himself with a dramatic sweep of his hand—“all included.”

Behind him, Tyler groaned. “John, leave my sister alone. And you—” he pointed at you, “no flirting with my friends this year.”

You shot your brother an exaggerated innocent look, but your gaze flicked back to John—who was still watching you with that glint in his eye, like this weekend was going to be very interesting.

And honestly?

It probably would be.