Page 56 of Mended Hearts

“Holy shit.” It came out as a breath, a prayer, a reverent sigh of a decade-long obsession.

Hard plastic CGC slab. Legit Marvel logo.

“Holy shit.”

Nine-point-eight grade.

“Oh my fuck.”

The delivery man might’ve chuckled, but I was too busy drooling over the contents.Winter Soldier #1. Vivid colors. My man front and center, rifle in hand, that iconic silver arm gleaming.

Oh, fuck me sideways in a cast-iron skillet—that was a first edition.

Eyes wide as saucers, I whispered, “Holy shit, this is the Dell’Otto Variant.”

“Yeah, it is,” Freckles replied smugly. “Oliver had us all in a tizzy over the weekend.”

“That bastard.”

“There’s a note…”

But I was already grabbing the card tucked between the bright purple and blue bouquet.

To my favorite superhero,

Thank you for saving my skin.

Enjoy yourself.

OO

—Ollie

“Unless you’re pullinga Meg Ryan, it seems like you enjoyed yourself,” Ollie had muttered, that lazy, self-satisfied grin slung across his face like sin. Like some love-drunk idiot, I’d just thanked him when he expertly delivered my first-ever second orgasm—with his mouth. For the love of all things holy, I wasn’t sure what the hell I’d waited so long for, because sweet baby Jesus, I was in heaven. Skin buzzing, mind spinning, I felt high. Like ‘accidentally stumbled onto Alice’s special brownies’ high.

“You’re really fucking good at that,” I panted into the crook of my arm, still sprawled across the couch where he’d pinned me. Didn’t even care. That man was a goddamn gift to womankind.

“Oh, beautiful girl, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Madam?” The freckled tall guy was still standing there, watching me expectantly.

Blinking the memory away, I looked down at the card still in my hand. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“Um,” I croaked, clearing my throat. “Yes. Fine. Thank you.”

But I wasn’t fine.

He’d sent me a bouquet of my birth flowers and a collector’s edition of my favorite comic book. All in the name of doting on his two amazing kids.

My “are you kidding me” text had gotten a salutingCaptain Americagif in return. No explanation.

How the hell was I supposed to look at him afterthat?

Luckily, I didn’t have to. Ollie barely had time for a hello and a wink Tuesday morning. Same on Wednesday. And Thursday.

By Friday, the kids and I had found a rhythm. Every morning started with giggles from Beau, and every afternoon ended with Tillie dishing tea fresh out of junior high like it was a sacred duty.

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