The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

“A pretty girl like you should know the score by now.” He
looked at her from head to toe, and the lewd gleam in his eyes
made her feel disgusting. “Don’t lie to me and say you didn’t
pick out a dress that short for my benefit. Nice legs, by the
way. I can see why Adam’s wasting his time with you.”
“The— What are you—”
“Olive.” He sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. He
should have looked nonthreatening, lounging like that. But he
felt like anything but. “You don’t think I accepted you into my
lab because you are good, do you?”
Slack-jawed, she took one more step back. One of her heels
almost caught in the carpet, and she had to hold on to the table
to avoid falling.
“A girl like you. Who figured out so early in her academic
career that fucking well-known, successful scholars is how to
get ahead.” He was still smiling. The same smile Olive had
once thought kind. Reassuring. “You fucked Adam, didn’t
you? We both know you’re going to fuck me for the same
reason.”
She was going to vomit. She was going to vomit in this
room, after all, and it had nothing to do with her talk. “You are
disgusting.”
“Am I?” He shrugged, unperturbed. “That makes two of us.
You used Adam to get to me and to my lab. To this conference,
too.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t even know Adam when I submitted—”
“Oh, please. You’re telling me you thought your pitiful
abstract was selected for a talk because of its quality and
scientific importance?” He made a disbelieving face.
“Someone here has a very high opinion of herself, considering
that her research is useless and derivative and that she can
barely put together two words without stuttering like an idiot.”