The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

He stared at her, perplexed, and she sighed and leaned
helplessly against the back of her chair. He’d clearly never
seen a rom-com or read a romance novel in his life. “Nothing.
Ignore me.”
“My symposium is part of a satellite workshop the day
before the conference starts, and then I’ll be speaking on the
first day of the actual conference. I have the room for the
entire conference, but I’ll probably need to leave for some
meetings after night two, so you’d be by yourself from night
three. We’d only overlap for one night.”
She listened to the logical, methodical way he listed
sensible reasons why she should just accept his offer and felt a
wave of panic sweep over her. “It seems like a bad idea.”
“That’s fine. I just don’t understand why.”
“Because.” Because I don’t want to. Because I have it bad.
Because I’d probably have it even worse, after that. Because
it’s going to be the week of September twenty-ninth, and I’ve
been trying hard not to think about it.
“Are you afraid that I’ll try to kiss you without your
consent? To sit on your lap, or fondle you under the pretext of
applying sunscreen? Because I would never—”
Olive chucked her phone at him. He caught it in his left
hand, studied its glitter amino-acid case with a pleased
expression, and then carefully set it next to her laptop.
“I hate you,” She told him, sullen. She might have been
pouting. And smiling at the same time.
His mouth twitched. “I know.”
“Am I ever going to live that stuff down?”
“Unlikely. And if you do, I’m sure something else will
come up.”