The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

Her smile faded. He was right. He was completely right.
He was also wrong. “Why?”
“Olive.” He shook his head again. Then his hand left her
waist and came up to his lips, as if to touch the kiss they’d just
shared, make sure it had really happened. “This is . . . no.”
He really was right. But . . . “Why?” she repeated.
Adam’s fingers pressed into his eyes. His left hand was still
holding her wrist, and she wondered distractedly if he was
even aware of it. If he knew that his thumb was swiping back
and forth across her pulse. “This is not what we’re here for.”
She could feel her nostrils flare. “That doesn’t mean that
—”
“You’re not thinking clearly.” He swallowed visibly.
“You’re upset and drunk, and—”
“I had two beers. Hours ago.”
“You’re a grad student, currently depending on me for a
place to stay, and even if not, the power I have over you could
easily turn this into a coercive dynamic that—”
“I’m—” Olive laughed. “I’m not feeling coerced, I—”
“You’re in love with someone else!”
She almost recoiled. The way he spit out the words was
that heated. It should have put her off, driven her away, once
and for all drilled into her head how ridiculous this was, how
disastrous an idea. It didn’t, though. By now the moody, illtempered
ass Adam meshed so well with her Adam, the one
who bought her cookies and checked her slides and let her cry
into his neck. There might have been a time when she couldn’t
quite reconcile the two, but they were all so clear now, the
many faces of him. She wouldn’t want to leave behind any of
them. Not one.