Page 25 of On Dry Land

“Probably an hour left in the game, at least. Don’t rush off on my account. And I can drop you wherever you’d like tomorrow. That’s not a problem.”

“I can walk, too. You’re just pretty⁠—”

“—far from town, yes,” I agree. Purposefully, I might add. There is nothing I desire more than quiet and solitude.

“Okay. Well, thanks.”

“Isn’t vlogging your job?” I ask. Fuck it, I’m curious. He spent all day flitting around with a camera in his hands, taking photographs of inane objects and asking me idiotic questions. What was the point of all that if not to make money?

“It is. But I don’t earn much. I mostly do it for fun. I’m good at it,” he adds, voice just a touch stronger, as though he’s proud of that fact.

“Can I see?”

He frowns, those lovely brown eyes a soft mahogany color in the brightness of the living room. I wonder what I’d have to do to get him to smile again.

“Sure. I mean, they’re online. Free and all. But you…you don’t have to.”

“Believe me, Spencer, I have long stopped doing anything I do not want to do.”

And there it is. A fast quirk of the lips, corners tipping upward. I take a sip of tea, glancing at the television in time to see a replay of my team scoring a goal I apparently missed.

“You can find me if you search ‘walking with Spence.’ There are shorts available if you just want a quick look, but my favorite stuff is the long-form content. All that footage I got today, I edited it down to twenty minutes. Once I clean it up a little more and add a few things, I’ll show you so you can veto if you’d like.”

I shrug, not particularly concerned. I doubt many people who’d recognize me watch his videos, and what would I care if they did? It’s not as though I’m hiding here, nor making it a secret that I haul lobster for a living now.

“So, not a big payout. Hence needing to look for other work,” I prompt. Spencer nods.

“Yeah. I need to save, and I also need to pay you rent.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “I have no recollection of asking you for rent.”

“No, but if I was staying in a long-term rental, I’d be paying for it. You offered me your guesthouse for a night, which I really appreciate, but if I’m going to be staying, I need to pay for it.”

“I’d really prefer if you didn’t.”

“Why?” he asks.

“I don’t think I can stress enough how very little I need your money.” I lift my hand off the couch to gesture at the room. Spencer glances up at the vaulted ceilings before looking back at me.

“You gave me groceries, too. There’s only so much charity I can accept before it crosses a line. I don’t deal in favors, so you’ll have to take money.”

“Consider it robbery if you’re uncomfortable with charity.” I shrug. On this, I won’t budge. Rent, for fuck’s sake.

“I’m not uncomfortable—” He stops, making a small, aggrieved noise in his throat like he hadn’t expected me to argue and is annoyed that I am. “I’m not uncomfortable with charity. I’m just saying, there is a line between what is acceptable to take and what is not. If I live in your house for months and contribute nothing to bills, that’s not charity; that’s freeloading.”

“And if I steal money from a homeless man, that’s not good business; it’s being a dirtbag.”

“Most people don’t argue when you try to give them money.”

“Most people don’t mind keeping it when someone declines it either,” I reply. His nose crinkles a bit as he frowns down at his knees, trying to think up an argument. Settling back into the couch, I look away from him and up at the television. “Colorado is on a power play.”

“I—what?”

“Power play.”

He opens and closes his mouth, glancing between me and the game. I don’t think he has any idea what a power play is, nor why he’s meant to care. I wait, giving him time to decide if he’s going to be stubborn and push me on the money issue or if he’ll let it go.

“That’s your team, then?” he asks hesitantly.