“Hanna,” he said, gently scooping up a few I might, maybe, have accidentally lain on. “Careful, baby. Some of these are older than you are.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

Will began carefully loading them into boxes and I picked up a copy with a particularly busty heroine on the cover.

“Really, Will?” I said, holding it up for him to see. Thanks to a rather large cleavage-displaying cutout, she was practically spilling out of her costume. “I’ve seen a lot of questionable outfits these girls are made to wear, but this is ridiculous bordering on obscene. How could anyone be expected to fight crime in this?”

“Oh, wow,” he said, ignoring my rant entirely and beginning to thumb through the pages. “I haven’t seen this in years.”

“What on earth is her power? Does she pummel bad guys with her boobs? What is this outfit she’s wearing? I think I cover more when I shower.”

“This is Power Girl, and her costume looks like this for a reason.”

“Is the reason so teen boys can wank without actually having to buy porn?”

When he didn’t say anything, my eyes widened.

“Oh my God!” I said.

“I think I’ve got this,” he mumbled, continuing to stack comics in boxes with a lot less care than he had a minute ago.

I rolled on the bed, giggling. “Wait until I tell Max you masturbated to a comic book.”

“Hanna, most guys masturbate to comic books. It’s like masturbation training wheels.”

“Okay, well, you just made this a lot less fun for me, though I will say your boob fetish makes a hell of a lot more sense now.”

And that’s how, by half-past noon, we ended up having sex on a stack of old comic books. He might never admit it, but I think Teenage Will just checked something off his bucket list.

At five, Will was going through a box of books in the living room when I passed him on my way to the kitchen.

“Need any help?” he asked, setting down a massive structural biology textbook and nodding toward my box.

“No, this is light. Just underwear, but I realized I want to go through some of it,” I said. “Don’t have a copy of Power Girl tucked in there, do you?”

“She’s a comedian,” he grumbled, turning on his heel and following me across the room.

“I could leave you alone for a few minutes,” I offered generously over my shoulder.

I set the box down on the counter and started going through it. Will stepped up next to me.

“Oh, I remember those,” he said when I pulled out a pair of satin panties.

“You do?”

“You had them on at your parents’ house when I visited for Easter.”