The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

Adam. I used to think the worst of you, and now . . .
“It’s supposed to help both of us. If it stops doing so . . .”
“No.” Olive shook her head. “No. I . . .” She forced her
face into a smile. “It’s complicated.”
“I see.”
She opened her mouth to say that no, he couldn’t possibly
see. He couldn’t possibly see anything, because Olive had just
made all of this up. This clusterfuck of a situation. “I don’t—”
She wet her lips. “There is no need to stop our arrangement
early, because I can’t tell him that I like him. Because I—”
“Dude.” A hand clapped on Adam’s shoulder. “Since when
are you not in your offi— Oh. I see.” Dr. Rodrigues’s gaze slid
from Adam to Olive and settled on her. For a second, he just
stood by the table and took her in, surprised to find her there.
Then his mouth widened into a slow grin. “Hey, Olive.”
During Olive’s first year of grad school, Dr. Rodrigues had
been on her preassigned graduate advisory committee—an
admittedly odd choice, given his relative lack of relevance to
her research. And yet, Olive had mostly pleasant memories of
her interactions with him. When she’d stammered her way
through her committee meetings, he’d always been the first to
smile at her, and once he’d even complimented her Star Wars
T-shirt—and then proceeded to hum the Darth Vader theme
under his breath every time Dr. Moss would start one of her
rants against Olive’s methods.
“Hey, Dr. Rodrigues.” She was positive that her smile was
not nearly as convincing as it should have been. “How are
you?”
He waved a hand. “Pssh. Please, call me Holden. You’re
not my student anymore.” He patted Adam on the back with
relish. “And you have the very dubious pleasure of dating my
oldest, most socially impaired friend.”