The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

the whole idea was idiotic and a car wreck waiting to happen
—which I believe encompasses the current situation.”
Malcolm was sitting across from her, by the window of the
crowded coffee shop. Around them students chatted, laughed,
ordered drinks—rudely unaware of the sudden maelstrom in
Olive’s life. She pushed up from the cold surface of the table
and pressed her palms into her eyes, not quite ready to open
them yet. She might never be ready again. “How could this
happen? I am not like this. This is not me. How could I—and
Adam Carlsen, of everyone. Who is into Adam Carlsen?”
Malcolm snorted. “Everyone, Ol. He’s a tall, broody, sullen
hunk with a genius IQ. Everyone likes tall, broody, sullen
hunks with genius IQs.”
“I don’t!”
“Clearly you do.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered. “He’s really
not that sullen.”
“Oh, he is. Just, you don’t notice, because you’re halfway
gone for him.”
“I am not—” She smacked her forehead. Repeatedly.
“Shit.”
He leaned forward and grabbed her hand, his skin dark and
warm against hers. “Hey,” he told her, voice pitched to a
comforting tone. “Settle down. We’ll figure it out.” He even
tacked on a smile. Olive loved him so much in that moment,
even with all the I told you sos. “First of all, how bad is it?”
“I don’t know. Is there a scale?”
“Well, there is liking, and there is liking.”
She shook her head, feeling utterly lost. “I just like him. I
want to spend time with him.”