The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

to my professional career, general well-being, and
happen
of sanity.
sense
Chapter Fourteen
HYPOTHESIS: This conference will be the worst thing to ever
There were two beds in the hotel room.
Two double beds to be precise, and as she stared at them,
Olive felt her shoulders sag with relief and had to resist the
urge to fist-pump. Take that, you stupid rom-coms. She may
have fallen for the dude she’d begun to fake-date like some
born-yesterday fool, but at least she wouldn’t be sharing a bed
with him any time soon. Given her disastrous past couple of
weeks, she’d really, really needed the win.
There were a number of little clues that Adam had slept on
the bed closest to the entrance—a book on the bedside table in
a language that looked like German, a thumb drive and the
same iPad she’d seen him carry around on several occasions,
an iPhone charger dangling from the power outlet. A suitcase
tucked by the foot of the bed, black and expensive-looking.
Unlike Olive’s, it probably hadn’t been fished out of the
Walmart bargain bin.
“I guess this is mine, then,” she murmured, sitting on the
bed closest to the window and bouncing a few times to test the
firmness of the mattress. It was a nice room. Not ridiculously
fancy, but Olive was suddenly grateful for the way Adam had
snorted and looked at her like she was crazy when she’d
offered to pay for half of it. At least the place was wide
enough that they weren’t going to have to brush up against
each other every time they moved around. Staying in here with