The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

already know. He was Adam Carlsen, after all. And he’d been
asked to interview. They were courting him.
“It’s not certain yet.”
It was. Of course it was. “Why Harvard?” she blurted.
“Why—why do you want to leave Stanford?” Her voice shook
a little, even though she did her best to sound calm.
“My parents live on the East Coast, and while I have my
issues with them, they’re going to need me close sooner or
later.” He paused, but Olive could tell that he wasn’t done. She
braced herself. “The main reason is Tom. And the grant. I
want to transition to doing more similar work, but that will
only be possible if we show good results. Being in the same
department as Tom would make us infinitely more productive.
Professionally, moving’s a no-brainer.”
She’d braced herself, but it still felt like a punch in the
sternum that left her void of air, caused her stomach to twist
and her heart to drop. Tom. This was about Tom.
“Of course,” she whispered. It helped her voice sound
firmer. “It makes sense.”
“And I could help you acclimatize, too,” he offered,
significantly more bashful. “If you want to. To Boston. To
Tom’s lab. Show you around, if you . . . if you’re feeling
lonely. Buy you that pumpkin stuff.”
She couldn’t answer that. She really—she could not answer
that. So she hung her head for a few moments, ordered herself
to buck the hell up, and lifted it again to smile at him.
She could do this. She would do this. “What time are you
leaving tomorrow?” He was probably just moving to another
hotel, closer to the Harvard campus.
“Early.”