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“Cleaning and painting more than fixing it,” I admitted. “But yeah, that’s me.”
I didn’t know much about repairs, but I could certainly paint and decorate. And thanks to my neurotic grandmother, I could clean circles around just about anybody.
“And you just started, right?”
“Yup.”
“Good. Then you don’t mind me saying it looks like shit.”
His attitude amused more than offended me. In the six years I’d been teaching, I’d learned to grow a thicker skin.
“It looks like shit,” I replied, “because it’s been pretty much abandoned since the 1980’s. All the more reason you guys can’t live here.”
Brandon and Colin exchanged concerned looks. Hunter only folded his arms.
“And why not?”
I sighed in frustration. It was getting later by the minute. I was losing the natural light, and I hadn’t gotten even half of what I wanted done today.
“Is the electricity on?” Hunter asked.
I reached out and flicked on the light switch. The antique chandelier that dominated the upper foyer lit up, even with half the bulbs missing.
“Good. What about heat? Gas?”
“Yes and yes,” I said. “But—”
“So what’s the problem?”
He was smirking at me now. Looking down at me with two thick forearms folded across a very sculpted chest. Hunter’s dark goatee matched his black tattoos. My eyes were drawn to them.
“Look, the place is a wreck,” I said. “There’s no cable, no internet — every room is full of dust and debris.”
I was a sucker for tattoos. Always had been.
“Only half the furniture is salvageable,” I went on. “I still have to get a dumpster, carry all this crap out of here and then—
“What if we helped you?” Brandon offered suddenly.
I blinked and turned to look at him. His expression was genuine.
“And why would you do that?’
“Because this is the third place we’ve been sent,” said Colin. “And you’re kinda our last resort.”
I still didn’t understand. “What do you mean last resort?”
He shrugged and his blonde mop shrugged with him. “The Dean said this ‘might or might not’ be ready,” Colin acknowledged. “And if you turn us away we’ll have to find off campus housing. Which will suck, because it’s expensive.”
“And which will double suck,” Hunter added, “because by now most of it is already taken.”
My first instinct was to shake my head, but something stopped me. I found myself putting my hands on my hips.
“You’d really live here?” I asked.
They nodded in unison. Hunter seemed somewhat detached, but I could see pleading in the other’s eyes.
“And you’d help out?”
