Collide in the Dark

OFF LIMITS

Chapter Six – Collide in the Dark

Leah

The fire crackled low in the distance, its glow flickering through the thin fabric of my tent. Night had fallen hard and fast, wrapping the forest in shadows and quiet. I sat cross-legged on the sleeping bag, arms wrapped tightly around myself—not from the cold, but from the storm still raging inside me.

The fight with Daniel earlier had been… intense.

He had pulled me aside just after we returned from the hike, his smile tight and his tone low.

"You've been distant all day," he said.

"I needed space," I replied. "This whole trip has been—complicated."

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Complicated because of him?"

"Daniel—"

"Leah," he cut me off, voice firm. "Be honest with me. Has something happened between you and Kingsley? Have you kissed him?"

My throat tightened.

He stepped closer, like he was afraid of the answer but needed it anyway. "Did you sleep with him?"

"No," I said too quickly.

It was true. Technically. But even the silence that followed made it feel like a lie.

Daniel stared at me, hurt flashing through his eyes. "Do you still want him?"

I didn't answer.

That was all he needed to walk away, shaking his head in disappointment. We were supposed to share a tent tonight, but after that conversation, I couldn't do it. I needed air. I needed silence. I needed distance—from Daniel, from the guilt, from the storm in my chest.

So I pitched my own tent—away from the others, away from Daniel, away from everything.

Or so I thought.

A rustle outside broke my thoughts. I turned toward the entrance of the tent, heart skipping.

Then I heard his voice.

"Leah?"

Kingsley.

I didn't answer. Part of me wanted him to go away. The other part—the traitorous part—ached at just the sound of him.

He unzipped the flap slowly, hesitating. "Can I come in?"

I should've said no. I should've told him to stay the hell away from me. But my voice betrayed me.

"…Yeah."

He stepped inside, tall, dark, and tired. His face was half-lit by the glow of the moon filtering through the mesh. His eyes locked onto mine—and I could see everything there: anger, confusion… desire.

"You shouldn't be here," I whispered.

"I know," he said, but he didn't move.

We stared at each other for a long, heavy moment. The air in the tent felt too thick, too small.

"Why did you follow me earlier?" I asked, breaking the silence. "Was it just to make things harder?"

"I didn't follow you to make anything harder," he said, sitting down across from me, his knees almost brushing mine. "I came because… I can't stop thinking about you."

My breath caught.

He leaned in just a little closer. "You don't get it, do you? You're in my head, Leah. All the time. Even when I'm with someone else, it's still you."

I swallowed hard, my heart thudding in my chest.

"You had your chance, Kingsley," I said, my voice trembling. "You pushed me away. You said I wasn't your type."

"I lied," he said, eyes burning into mine. "I lied because I was scared. Of what I felt. Of what Kurt would say. Of everything."

I looked away, biting my lip.

"And Daniel?" I asked. "He's been nothing but good to me. He doesn't make me feel like a secret."

"I know," Kingsley whispered. "And maybe he's the better man. But he's not the one you think about at night, is he?"

That did it.

I moved before I could stop myself—one reckless, messy, hungry movement—and our mouths crashed together. His hands were in my hair, mine on his shoulders, and we were kissing like we were trying to erase every word we'd ever said that pushed us apart.

It wasn't gentle.

It wasn't sweet.

It was desperate and heated and years in the making.

Kingsley pushed me back onto the sleeping bag, his body hovering over mine. I felt his breath against my neck, his hands sliding beneath my shirt, fingertips tracing the soft skin just below my ribs. My breath hitched as his palm cupped my breast through my bra, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak until I arched beneath him.

"God, Leah…" he breathed against my collarbone, his voice husky. "You don't know how long I've wanted this."

He unclasped my bra slowly, reverently, and his mouth replaced his hand, warm lips and tongue brushing over my nipple. I gasped, my back arching, fingers threading through his hair as he sucked gently, then harder, until I could barely think straight.

"I've thought about this," he murmured against my skin, trailing kisses down my stomach. "Every night. Every time you smiled at me and I couldn't have you."

My body trembled as he peeled off my shorts, then his own. There was no rush anymore—just the unbearable heat between us, the pull of everything unsaid.

When he entered me, it wasn't rough or frantic. It was slow. Deep. Intimate. Our foreheads pressed together as we moved, our breaths mingling, our bodies syncing like we'd always belonged this way.

"I should've fought for you," he whispered between shallow breaths, his fingers laced with mine.

I didn't reply—I couldn't. Every word would break me.

When the pleasure finally broke over us, it wasn't just physical. It was emotional. It was a release of all the pain, the confusion, the waiting.

He held me afterward, his arms wrapped tightly around me, and for a moment I let myself believe the world outside didn't exist.

But it did.

And as I stared at the ceiling of the tent, guilt crept in like smoke. Thick. Suffocating.

Daniel's voice echoed in my head.

"Did you sleep with him?"

Now… I had.

⸻

Morning came too fast.

The sunlight filtered in as I quietly pulled my clothes back on. Kingsley was still asleep, arm stretched over the space where I'd been lying.

I couldn't look at him.

Because I knew what I had to do.

Pretend. Hide. Lie.

…But the truth was already written all over my skin.

And in the guilt that wouldn't stop clawing at my chest.

I stepped out of the tent, the early morning air biting against my skin. The camp was still quiet—birds chirping lazily, the sky painted in soft hues of dawn. I tightened my hoodie and started walking back toward the main tents, trying to steady my breathing, trying to come up with what I would say if anyone asked where I'd been all night.

Then I heard the zipper again.

I turned slightly—just enough to see Kingsley stepping out of the tent behind me, his shirt half-buttoned, hair tousled, a sleepy but satisfied expression on his face.

He didn't see the figure standing a few yards away.

But I did.

Kurt.

His arms were crossed, jaw tight, eyes dark and locked on Kingsley like he'd just watched his best friend commit murder.

He'd seen everything.

And the storm in his eyes told me he wasn't going to stay silent.

Not this time.