The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

“He was shameless, Ol. And glorious. I took some
pictures.”
Malcolm gasped in outrage. “Okay, that’s illegal and I
could sue you. But if I look good in them, do send them my
way.”
“Will do, babe. Now tell us about the sex.”
The fact that Malcolm, usually very forward with the
details of his sex life, just closed his eyes and smiled, spoke
volumes. Anh and Olive exchanged a long, impressed glance.
“And that’s not even the best part. He wants to see me
again. Today. A date. He used the word ‘date’ unprompted.”
He fell back on the mattress. “He’s so hot. And funny. And
nice. A sweet, filthy beast.”
Malcolm looked so happy, Olive couldn’t resist: she
swallowed the lump that had taken residence in her throat
sometime last night and jumped on the bed next to him,
hugging him as tight as she could. Anh followed and did the
same.
“I’m so happy for you, Malcolm.”
“Same.” Anh’s voice was muffled against his hair.
“I am happy for me, too. I hope he’s serious. You know
when I said I was training for gold? Well, Holden’s platinum.”
“You should ask Carlsen, Ol,” Anh suggested. “If he knows
what Holden’s intentions are.”
She probably wasn’t going to have the opportunity anytime
soon. “I will.”
Malcolm shifted a bit and turned to Olive. “Did you really
fall asleep last night? Or were you and Carlsen celebrating in
unmentionable ways?”
“Celebrating?”