The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

It was all Olive could do not to let her jaw drop. They were
friends? Charming, devil-may-care Holden Rodrigues and
surly, taciturn Adam Carlsen were old friends? Was this
something she was supposed to know? Adam’s girlfriend
would have known, right?
Dr. Rodrigues—Holden? God, Holden. She was never
going to get used to the fact that professors were real people
and had first names—turned to Adam, who appeared
untroubled by having been decreed socially impaired.
He asked, “You’re leaving for Boston tonight, right?” and
his speech pattern changed a little—pitched lower and faster,
more casual. Comfortable. They really were old friends.
“Yeah. Can you still give Tom and me a ride to the
airport?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Is Tom going to be gagged and tied up in the trunk?”
Adam sighed. “Holden.”
“I’ll allow him in the back seat, but if he doesn’t keep his
mouth shut, I’ll ditch him on the highway.”
“Fine. I’ll let him know.”
Holden seemed satisfied. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to
interrupt.” He patted Adam’s shoulder once more, but he was
looking at Olive.
“It’s okay.”
“Really? Well, then.” His smile broadened and he pulled up
a chair from a nearby table. Adam closed his eyes, resigned.
“So, what are we talking about?”
Why, I was just in the middle of lying my ass off, thank you
for asking. “Ah . . . nothing much. How do you two . . .” She