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Spencer had gone to find Diego for one reason and one reason only: to convince him to vote for Benji at the elimination ceremony.
He couldn’t let himself get tangled in any more emotional drama—not in this game, and definitely not with Diego. This conversation had to stay strictly business.
From the edge of the clearing, Spencer spotted the Colombian man sitting near the shore. Diego rested one hand against his cheek while the other trailed absently through the grainy sand. The sight of him sent an unwelcome heat creeping up Spencer’s neck.
He needed to handle this and get out—fast.
As Spencer approached Diego from behind, thoughts of confrontation and confession looped endlessly in his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't push them away—another reason Diego needed to go. But for now, strategy demanded he stay.
Still, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from walking right past him. His eyes darted anywhere but the hunched figure by the shore, scanning the waves, the trees—anything to avoid Diego.
What if Diego brought up that morning? What if he was just playing Spencer, using him as part of the game? No... Diego wouldn’t do that. But what if Spencer wanted more? Worse—what if he couldn’t handle more? Each thought struck like a knife, relentless and sharp, until his feet had already carried him away.
Abort mission.
Jade could talk to Diego instead. Maybe Spencer really was the coward he was too afraid to admit he might be.
Or maybe he just can’t handle his emotions.
“Spence!”
A thick accent pulled Spencer out of his spiraling thoughts and slammed him back into the present—the present being Diego calling for his attention.
Spencer winced at the sound of his name in Diego’s voice, the familiar accent making something twist painfully in his chest. “Y-yeah?” he stammered, turning around slowly, forcing his movements to stay casual when every instinct screamed at him to run. He needed to shut this conversation down before it spiraled into something he couldn’t handle.
Diego had risen to his feet, hands twisting together in a nervous knot. His dark brown eyes, soft and searching, locked onto Spencer’s blue ones with such sincerity that it made Spencer’s stomach churn.
“I want to apologize about earlier. I—”
“It’s fine. I’m sure it was an honest mistake,” Spencer cut in sharply, too fast, too eager to escape. This was the last conversation he wanted to have. His pulse was already hammering in his ears, his brain scrambling for an escape route. But beneath the panic, another part of him—a quieter, more dangerous part—was clinging to the idea that maybe it hadn’t been a mistake at all. Maybe Diego actually wanted him. Spencer shoved the thought down hard. Hope was a trap, and it had never done anything but leave him shattered.
But then Diego’s eyes widened, and his voice—usually so confident, so steady—wavered. “No, no, it wasn’t!”
Spencer’s breath caught. There was something almost desperate in the way Diego said it, a kind of urgency Spencer wasn’t prepared for. He froze, unable to stop the words from coming.
“I like you, Spencer. I like you quite a lot. You’re driven, funny, and you hide such a big heart.” Diego hesitated, as if bracing himself for impact, then pushed forward. “I didn’t expect to meet someone so wonderful here. And I… was… hoping… you felt the same.”
Spencer’s entire world tilted.
He stood there, staring at Diego, feeling like the ground had been ripped out from beneath him. He had spent so long convincing himself that feelings— real feelings—weren’t an option. Not here. Not with Diego. And yet, here they were, exposed under the weight of Diego’s confession.
His chest tightened painfully, his throat dry and useless. He didn’t know what to do with this—this vulnerability, this terrifying, wonderful, awful possibility that Diego might actually see him. His brain screamed at him to run, to laugh it off, to pretend like this moment hadn’t happened. But his heart... his heart was an entirely different problem.
Because the truth was, Spencer did feel the same. He had felt it for a while now—every glance, every touch, every lingering second spent too close. And it scared the hell out of him. What if he ruined this? What if it wasn’t real? What if wanting more meant losing it all?
A hundred thoughts collided in his head, each more paralyzing than the last. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral, but he knew Diego could see straight through him. He always did.
Spencer had never thought it was even possible to feel this shocked, this exposed, this completely and utterly unprepared. And yet, here he was—standing in front of Diego, feeling everything all at once and having no idea what to do with any of it.
The only thing he could manage to say was, “Diego…”
But Diego didn’t let him linger in the uncertainty. “I can’t accept what Jade said,” he cut in, his voice filled with conviction, like he had already made peace with whatever storm was coming. “My heart tells me we can keep playing this game and go far!” A hopeful smile tugged at his lips. “...Together.”
And then Diego extended his hand. “Do you trust me?”
Spencer’s breath hitched, his gaze flicking between Diego’s outstretched hand and his face. The words hung in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. Do you trust me?
Did he?
The game had always come first. It had to. That was the rule Spencer lived by, the one thing he could control. Yet now, standing here with Diego looking at him like that —like none of it mattered, like Spencer mattered—everything he thought he knew was slipping through his fingers. The game wasn’t supposed to feel this real. It wasn’t supposed to strip him bare like this, leaving him raw and exposed.
His heart was pounding, each frantic beat a reminder of how terrifying this moment was. He could feel the sweat on his palms, the heat crawling up his neck again, making him want to shrink into himself. He was scared— God, he was scared—but even with every instinct screaming at him to retreat, he found himself reaching out.
Cautiously, hesitantly, Spencer extended his arm and laced his fingers with Diego’s. His grip was uncertain at first, fingers trembling, but Diego’s hand—cool against his own burning skin—grounded him in a way he hadn’t expected. The contrast sent a shiver down his spine. He felt gross, hot, and overwhelmed, but none of that mattered. Not when Diego’s hand was in his.
He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. He didn’t know what this meant—if it meant anything at all. He wasn’t sure if he could really trust Diego, not fully, not yet. But for the first time in a long time, he wanted to.
And that was almost more terrifying than the game itself.
Spencer took a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “How long have you felt like this?”
Diego shrugged, a soft smile playing on his lips as his fingers traced slow, reassuring patterns over the back of Spencer’s hand. “Honestly? You caught my eye the moment you got on that helicopter. I didn’t know what it was at first—just that I’d never seen someone quite like you. So handsome, so… captivating.” He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “That first day, when we were decorating our camp, I kept telling myself to focus, but my eyes—they had a mind of their own. They kept finding you.”
Spencer swallowed, feeling the heat creep up his neck. He didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know how to process the idea that Diego had been looking at him all along. “Diego, I—”
Diego squeezed his hand gently, stepping closer. “I didn’t come here for love,” he continued, his voice softer now, more vulnerable. “I came here for the game, for all the wild and interesting interactions that come with it. But you? This feeling I have for you…” He exhaled, his dark eyes locked onto Spencer’s. “It’s not something I was expecting.”
Spencer could feel his pulse hammering in his throat. “Diego, I don’t even know what to say…” His voice cracked slightly, the weight of it all pressing down on him.
Diego’s lips twitched into a knowing smile, and he took another step forward, so close now that Spencer could feel the warmth radiating off him. “Then don’t, Spence,” he murmured. “Words aren’t necessary.”
And just like that, Spencer let himself stop thinking. He tilted his head, hesitating only a moment before leaning in, pressing his lips to Diego’s and closing his eyes.
Everything else—the game, the strategy, the endless calculations that usually ruled his mind—faded into the background. There was only Diego now, his touch, the way he tasted like salt and something faintly sweet. Spencer’s heart raced, but for once, it wasn’t out of fear.
It was something else entirely.
The kiss was gentle at first, tentative—like Spencer was testing the waters of something far deeper than he could ever prepare for. But Diego? Diego kissed like he knew exactly what he wanted. His hand slid up to cup the side of Spencer’s face, thumb brushing lightly over his cheek, grounding him in the moment.
Spencer wasn’t sure how long they stood there, lips moving in a slow, uncertain rhythm, but when they finally parted, he kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, as if clinging to the feeling. When he finally opened them, Diego was already watching him, that signature easy smile curving his lips.
“You’re thinking too much,” Diego teased, his voice low, amused.
Spencer huffed out a soft laugh, pulling back just enough to put some much-needed space between them. “I’m always thinking too much.” He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Diego’s gaze. “This… it’s just a lot.”
Diego tilted his head, eyes warm but understanding. “It doesn’t have to be, you know.”
But it did have to be. Spencer couldn’t just switch off the part of him that saw everything through the lens of the game. The alliances, the strategies, the constant push and pull of power—it was all still there, gnawing at the edges of this moment. And yet, standing here with Diego, fingers still loosely tangled together, the game didn’t feel quite so suffocating.
Spencer took a breath, staring out at the water to steady himself. “I can’t afford distractions,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction, like he was trying to convince himself more than Diego.
Diego, to his credit, didn’t push. Instead, he gave Spencer’s hand a small squeeze, his voice soft but sure. “Then don’t think of me as a distraction. Think of me as…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “A reason to play smarter.”
Spencer blinked, glancing at him with something caught between surprise and skepticism.
Diego grinned, his dark eyes dancing with mischief. “Besides,” he added, “you’d be lost without me.”
Spencer rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in the faintest smile. “You’re insufferable.”
Diego smirked. “And yet, you kissed me.”
Spencer groaned, shoving Diego lightly in the chest before stepping away. “I’m going to regret this.”
Diego’s laughter followed him as Spencer walked off, but even as he put distance between them, he couldn’t stop the small, nagging thought that maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t.
Just as Spencer was about to disappear into the trees, the reason he’d come here in the first place slammed into him like a slap to the face. He spun back around, calling out before he could overthink it.
“Oh, and we’re voting Benji tonight.”
Diego looked at him for a beat before giving an easy nod, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Got it,” he said, tossing in a wink for good measure.
Spencer rolled his eyes, but the smile that crept onto his face stuck longer than he expected. He turned away, still feeling the ghost of Diego’s touch lingering in his palm, his mind playing the moment over in an endless loop.
And then, of course, he ran straight into Jade.
“Hey, Spencer,” Jade greeted, crossing her arms and eyeing him suspiciously. “You let Diego know about tonight?”
Spencer forced his face into something neutral, casual—like his pulse wasn’t still racing. “Yeah, I did.” He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet as if that would ground him.
Jade studied him for a moment too long, then nodded. “Good. And you’re not still thinking of trying to vote him out, right? We can’t afford to lose him.”
Spencer opened his mouth, an automatic rebuttal ready, but the words died in his throat. Yeah, neither can I.
He forced a scoff instead, running a hand through his hair. “Come on, Jade. Everything’s fine. My gameplay’s solid, I promise.” The lie slipped out so smoothly it almost startled him. He didn’t even feel bad about it—he couldn't afford to.
Jade’s expression softened, and Spencer hated that. “Wow, that’s great to hear,” she said, relief coloring her voice. “Glad you finally realized how easy it is to just… let it go.”
Let it go. As if it were that simple. As if it weren’t already clawing at the edges of his mind.
Spencer forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah, you were right. I’ll just keep things straightforward. Mates and nothing more.” The words felt like a betrayal, but he told himself they were necessary. He couldn’t tell Jade what had really happened—not now, not ever. Relationships were dangerous in this game, distractions waiting to happen. And yet… that only made it all the more tempting to try.
It had been done before. Two years ago, James managed to juggle both love and strategy and walked away with the win. Spencer had studied every move he made. The probability of pulling it off himself? Not impossible. But Jade wouldn’t understand that—she’d see it as a liability, not an advantage.
Jade gave him one last searching look, then nodded in satisfaction. “Good to hear. I’ll see you at elimination.”
Spencer watched her walk away, exhaling slowly. His heart still felt too loud in his chest, but he forced himself to push it all down, locking it up tight where no one—especially Diego—could see.
But as he turned back toward camp, his fingers curled slightly, as if still remembering the way Diego's hand had fit into his.
Spencer walked away from Jade, his heart still pounding from the conversation. He had lied, effortlessly, like it was second nature. But the weight of it settled heavily in his chest, twisting in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge. This was the game—lying, manipulating, staying two steps ahead. He’d done it a hundred times before, so why did it feel different now?
Because it was Diego.
Spencer exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as he kept moving toward camp. The thought of Diego’s smile, his touch, the quiet promise behind his words—it all clashed against the cold, calculated strategy that Spencer swore he’d stick to. He’d told himself he could keep emotions out of it, that he wouldn’t get attached, but the truth was glaring. He already had.
And now, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, Spencer knew he was playing a dangerous game. Not just with Diego—but with himself.
In a game built on deception, Spencer wasn’t sure what scared him more—losing to Diego or wanting him to win.