The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood
Which, Olive assumed, meant that they were actually doingthis. Of course they damn were. Because this was her life, andthese were her poor, moronic, harebrained choices.“Hey,” Adam said to her once they were closer. He waslooking at her hands, at the way she had to hold them in frontof her body like a supplicant. Behind her, Anh and Jeremywere no doubt ogling them.“Hey.” She was wearing flip-flops, and he had sneakers on,and—he was always tall, but right now he towered over her. Itput her eyes right in front of his pecs, and . . . No. Nope. Notdoing that.“Can you turn around?”He hesitated for a moment, but then he did,uncharacteristically obedient. Which ended up resolving noneof Olive’s problems, since his back was in no way less broador impressive than his chest.“Can you, um . . . duck a bit?”Adam bent his head until his shoulders were . . . stillabnormally high but somewhat easier to reach. As she liftedher right hand, some of the lotion dripped to the ground—Where it belongs, she thought savagely—and then she wasdoing it, this thing that she had never thought she would ever,ever do. Putting sunscreen on Adam Carlsen.It wasn’t her first time touching him. Therefore, sheshouldn’t have been surprised by how hard his muscles were,or that there was no give to his flesh. Olive remembered theway he’d pushed the truck, imagined that he could probablybench-press three times her weight, and then ordered herself tostop, because that was not an appropriate train of thought.Still, the issue remained that there was nothing between herhand and his skin. He was hot from the sun, his shouldersrelaxed and immobile under her touch. Even in public, close asthey were, it felt like something intimate was happening.
“So.” Her mouth was dry. “This might be a good time tomention how sorry I am that we keep getting stuck in thesesituations.”“It’s fine.”“I really am, though.”“It’s not your fault.” There was an edge in his voice.“Are you okay?”“Yep.” He nodded, though the movement seemed taut.Which had Olive realizing that maybe he was not as relaxed asshe’d initially thought.“How much do you hate this, on a scale from one to‘correlation equals causation’?”He surprised her by chuckling, though he still soundedstrained. “I don’t hate it. And it’s not your fault.”“Because I know this is the worst possible thing, and—”“It isn’t. Olive.” He turned a bit to look her in the eyes, amix of amusement and that odd tension. “These things aregoing to keep on happening.”“Right.”His fingers brushed softly against her left palm as he stole abit of her sunscreen for his front. Which, all in all, was for thebest. She really didn’t want to be massaging lotion into hischest in front of 70 percent of her Ph.D. program—not tomention her boss, since Dr. Aslan was probably watching themlike a hawk. Or maybe she wasn’t. Olive had no intention ofturning around to check. She’d rather live in less-than-blissfulignorance. “Mostly because you hang out with some reallynosy people.”She burst out laughing. “I know. Believe me, I’m reallyregretting befriending Anh right now. Kind of contemplatingassassinating her, to tell the truth.”
- Page 93 and 94: “Is that so?”“Mmm.”His mout
- Page 95 and 96: “The time difference screwed me u
- Page 97 and 98: that he wasn’t planning to. Olive
- Page 99 and 100: “That is, I, um . . . never put t
- Page 101 and 102: “What kind of question is that?
- Page 103 and 104: “Who?”“Tom,” Adam said, a t
- Page 105 and 106: Olive had no idea he was giving a t
- Page 107: Adam laughed silently just as Tom s
- Page 110 and 111: “Hey—sorry.” She gestured in
- Page 112 and 113: Because millions of dollars in rese
- Page 114 and 115: torso. He didn’t say anything but
- Page 116 and 117: pitch her voice. “Or do you maybe
- Page 118 and 119: Cherie just standing there, chattin
- Page 120 and 121: “Because you moved the truck. I
- Page 122 and 123: this time with the sleeve of his sh
- Page 124 and 125: “The— Oh.” Adam rolled his ey
- Page 127 and 128: with an uneasy expression and start
- Page 129 and 130: “Yeah, well.” He stood and walk
- Page 131: Olive: Did you just fail Greg?trick
- Page 137 and 138: In the back seat Olive and Jeremy e
- Page 139 and 140: a six-pack?”Jeremy blinked. “Mi
- Page 141 and 142: 1.5. Okay, I don’t like this. Jer
- Page 143: had a choice. Any choice. Especiall
- Page 147 and 148: She pinched him lightly on the unde
- Page 149 and 150: Adam nodded, Tom spun around and he
- Page 151: “What? No.”“Because that’s
- Page 154 and 155: “Should you be having caffeine at
- Page 156 and 157: “Can’t stand chocolate.”Olive
- Page 158 and 159: He glared, but she was starting to
- Page 160 and 161: “There are things you can do abou
- Page 162 and 163: the person she loved the most, but
- Page 164 and 165: He nodded, thoughtful. “You’re
- Page 166 and 167: jeans. “We’re friends. We weren
- Page 169 and 170: Olive: Tom just invited me to your
- Page 171 and 172: she’d sent. “To make sure I und
- Page 173 and 174: Once they were in Adam’s car—a
- Page 175 and 176: Adam was still around. The reason s
- Page 177 and 178: “I will if you get pumpkin stuff.
- Page 179 and 180: “It literally takes ten minutes.
- Page 181 and 182: you need to get over it. For scienc
- Page 183: Chapter TenHYPOTHESIS: If I fall in
- Page 188 and 189: the whole idea was idiotic and a ca
- Page 190 and 191: added begrudgingly, “he’s not n
- Page 192 and 193: noticeably different from the Adam
“So.” Her mouth was dry. “This might be a good time to
mention how sorry I am that we keep getting stuck in these
situations.”
“It’s fine.”
“I really am, though.”
“It’s not your fault.” There was an edge in his voice.
“Are you okay?”
“Yep.” He nodded, though the movement seemed taut.
Which had Olive realizing that maybe he was not as relaxed as
she’d initially thought.
“How much do you hate this, on a scale from one to
‘correlation equals causation’?”
He surprised her by chuckling, though he still sounded
strained. “I don’t hate it. And it’s not your fault.”
“Because I know this is the worst possible thing, and—”
“It isn’t. Olive.” He turned a bit to look her in the eyes, a
mix of amusement and that odd tension. “These things are
going to keep on happening.”
“Right.”
His fingers brushed softly against her left palm as he stole a
bit of her sunscreen for his front. Which, all in all, was for the
best. She really didn’t want to be massaging lotion into his
chest in front of 70 percent of her Ph.D. program—not to
mention her boss, since Dr. Aslan was probably watching them
like a hawk. Or maybe she wasn’t. Olive had no intention of
turning around to check. She’d rather live in less-than-blissful
ignorance. “Mostly because you hang out with some really
nosy people.”
She burst out laughing. “I know. Believe me, I’m really
regretting befriending Anh right now. Kind of contemplating
assassinating her, to tell the truth.”
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