The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

“Of course not.”
“Why ‘of course’?”
“Because maybe it wasn’t him. And if he was, he clearly
doesn’t remember, or he’d have mentioned it weeks ago.”
He hadn’t been the one wearing expired contacts, after all.
Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Listen, Olive,” he said earnestly,
“I need you to consider something: What if Adam likes you,
too? What if he wants something more?”
She laughed. “There is no way.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“Because he’s him. He’s Adam Carlsen, and I . . .” She
trailed off. No need to continue. And I’m me. I am nothing
special.
Malcolm was quiet for a long moment. “You have no idea,
do you?” His tone was sad. “You’re great. You’re beautiful,
and loving. You’re independent, and a genius scientist, and
selfless, and loyal—hell, Ol, look at this ridiculous mess you
created just so your friend could date the guy she likes without
feeling guilty. There’s no way Carlsen hasn’t noticed.”
“No.” She was resolute. “Don’t get me wrong, I do think he
likes me, but he thinks of me as a friend. And if I tell him and
he doesn’t want to . . .”
“To what? Doesn’t want to fake-date you anymore? It’s not
like you have much to lose.”
Maybe not. Maybe all the talking, and those looks Adam
gave her, and him shaking his head when she ordered extra
whipped cream; the way he let himself be teased out of his
moods; the texts; how he seemed to be so at ease with her, so