The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

probably rather be anywhere else. She bit her thumbnail,
feeling guilty, starting to panic, and—
And then he smiled. And suddenly there were grooves
around his mouth and dimples in his cheeks and his face was
completely altered by them. The air at the table thinned. Olive
couldn’t quite breathe.
“You know, there’s a middle ground between living off
brownies and exclusively eating broccoli.”
She grinned, for no reason other than—Adam was here,
with her. And he was smiling. “That’s a lie.”
He shook his head, mouth still curved. “How are you?”
Better now. “Good. How was Boston?”
“Good.”
“I’m glad you’re back. I’m pretty sure the biology dropout
rates have seen a steep reduction. We can’t have that.”
He gave her a patient, put-upon look. “You look tired,
smart-ass.”
“Oh. Yeah, I . . .” She rubbed her cheek with her hand,
ordering herself not to feel self-conscious about her looks, just
like she’d always made a point not to. It would be an equally
stupid idea to wonder what the woman Holden mentioned the
other day looked like. Probably stunning. Probably feminine,
with curves; someone who actually needed to wear a bra,
someone who was not half covered in freckles, who had
mastered the art of applying liquid eyeliner without making a
mess of herself.
“I’m fine. It’s been a week, though.” She massaged her
temple.
He cocked his head. “What happened?”
“Nothing . . . My friends are stupid, and I hate them.” She
felt instantly guilty and made a face. “Actually, I don’t hate