The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

about Malcolm’s elbows. Holden had texted it at three a.m.”
“Was it good?”
He lifted one eyebrow, and she laughed again.
“They are . . .”
“The worst.” Adam shook his head. “But I think Holden
might need it. Someone to care about, who also cares about
him.”
“Malcolm, too. I’m just . . . concerned that he might want
more than Holden is willing to offer?”
“Believe me, Holden is very ready to file taxes jointly.”
“Good. I’m glad.” She smiled. And then felt her smile fade,
just as quickly. “One-sided relationships are really . . . not
good.” I would know. And maybe you would, too.
He studied his own palm, undoubtedly thinking about the
woman Holden had mentioned. “No. No, they’re not.”
It was a weird kind of ache, the jealousy. Confusing,
unfamiliar, not something she was used to. Half cutting, half
disorienting and aimless, so different from the loneliness she’d
felt since she was fifteen. Olive missed her mother every day,
but with time she’d been able to harness her pain and turn it
into motivation for her work. Into purpose. Jealousy,
though . . . the misery of it didn’t come with any gain. Only
restless thoughts, and something squeezing at her chest
whenever her mind turned to Adam.
“I need to ask you something,” he said. The seriousness of
his tone made her look up.
“Sure.”
“The people you overheard at the conference
yesterday . . .”
She stiffened. “I’d rather not—”