The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

“Okay, that doesn’t mean anything. You also want to spend
time with me.”
She grimaced, feeling herself blush scarlet. “Not quite like
that.”
Malcolm was quiet for a beat. “I see.” He knew how big of
a deal this was for Olive. They’d talked about it multiple times
—how rare it was for her to experience attraction, especially
sexual attraction. If there was something wrong with her. If her
past had stunted her in some way.
“God.” She just wanted to retreat inside her hoodie like a
turtle until it all went away. Go run a race. Start writing her
dissertation proposal. Anything but deal with this. “It was
there, and I didn’t figure it out. I just thought he was smart and
attractive and that he had a nice smile and that we could be
friends and—” She rubbed her palms into her eye sockets,
wishing she could go back and erase her life choices. The
entire past month. “Do you hate me?”
“Me?” Malcolm sounded surprised.
“Yes.”
“No. Why would I hate you?”
“Because he’s been horrible to you, made you throw out a
ton of data. It’s just—with me he’s not—”
“I know. Well,” he amended, waving his hand, “I don’t
know know. But I can believe he’s different with you than
when he was in my damn graduate advisory committee.”
“You hate him.”
“Yeah—I hate him. Or . . . I dislike him. But you don’t
have to dislike him because I do. Though I do reserve the right
to comment on your abysmal taste in men. Every other day or
so. But, Ol, I saw you guys at the picnic. He definitely wasn’t
interacting with you like he does with me. Plus, you know,” he