The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Adam wrote it off as someodd personality quirk of Holden’s, but—”“Hey. My man’s personality is perfect.”“Maybe there is something else?”Anh nodded energetically. “Malcolm, where can Olive findHolden right this minute?”“I don’t know. But”—he tapped his phone with a smugsmile—“I happen to have his number right here.”—HOLDEN (OR HOLDEN BubbleButt, as Malcolm had saved him inhis contacts) was just finishing up his talk. Olive caught thelast five minutes of it—something about crystallography sheneither understood nor wanted to—and was totally unsurprisedby how smooth and charismatic a speaker he was. Sheapproached him on the podium once he was done answeringquestions, and he smiled when he noticed her walk up thestairs, seeming genuinely happy to see her.“Olive. My new roommate-in-law!”“Right. Yes. Um, great talk.” She ordered herself to stopwringing her hands. “I wanted to ask you a question . . .”“Is it about the nucleic acids in the fourth slide? Because Itotally BS’d my way through them. My Ph.D. student madethe figure, and she’s way smarter than me.”“No. The question is about Adam—”Holden’s expression brightened.“Well, actually, it’s about Tom Benton.”It darkened just as quickly. “What about Tom?”
Right. What about Tom, precisely? Olive wasn’t quite surehow to approach the topic. She wasn’t even sure what shemeant to ask. Sure, she could have barfed up her entire lifestory for Holden and begged him to fix this mess for her, butsomehow it didn’t seem like a good idea. She racked her brainfor a moment, and then landed on: “Did you know that Adamis thinking about moving to Boston?”“Yeah.” Holden rolled his eyes and pointed at the tallwindows. There were large, ominous clouds threatening toexplode with torrential rain. The wind, already chilly inSeptember, was shaking a lonely hickory tree. “Who wouldn’twant to move here from California?” he scoffed.Olive liked the idea of seasons, but she kept the thought toherself. “Do you think . . . Do you think he’d be happy here?”Holden studied her intensely for a minute. “You know, youwere already my favorite girlfriend of Adam’s—not that therewere many; you’re the only woman who could compete withcomputational modeling in about a decade—but that questionwins you a lifelong number-one plaque.” He pondered thematter for a minute. “I think Adam could be happy here—inhis own way, of course. Broodingly, unenthusiastically happy.But yes, happy. Provided that you are here, too.”Olive had to stop herself from snorting.“Provided that Tom behaves.”“Why do you say that? About Tom? I . . . I don’t mean topry, but you told me to watch my back with him in Stanford.You . . . don’t like him?”He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like him—even though Idon’t. It’s more that I don’t trust him.”“Why, though? Adam told me about the things Tom did forhim when your adviser was abusive.”
- Page 289 and 290: —IT TOOK HER the longest time to
- Page 291 and 292: Yes.“Fuck,” someone said. It wa
- Page 293 and 294: orgasm, and the taut stretch of it,
- Page 295 and 296: “Inside you?”“If you—”Ada
- Page 298 and 299: Oh. Maybe, now that they had sex—
- Page 300 and 301: “What?” She gasped and freed he
- Page 302 and 303: finally belonging that seemed to ge
- Page 304 and 305: Slowly, precisely, she wrapped her
- Page 306 and 307: “The book you’re reading. With
- Page 308 and 309: “Who needs to know how to say ‘
- Page 310 and 311: He rolled his tongue inside his che
- Page 312 and 313: “Okay.” She leaned forward and
- Page 315 and 316: who hugged her and started talking
- Page 317 and 318: “He was shameless, Ol. And glorio
- Page 320 and 321: It was an even fancier hotel, and O
- Page 322 and 323: about Malcolm’s elbows. Holden ha
- Page 324 and 325: A beat. Adam studied her, patient a
- Page 326 and 327: “Right,” he said. “Right.”
- Page 328 and 329: “It was good, wasn’t it?” Oli
- Page 330 and 331: Tom Fucking Benton take credit for
- Page 333 and 334: “Fine,” Anh huffed. “Malcolm,
- Page 335 and 336: recording of Tom Benton saying shit
- Page 337 and 338: only one bed in this hotel room was
- Page 339: “I haven’t.”“Yes, Ol, you h
- Page 343 and 344: Holden sighed. “This is why Adam
- Page 345 and 346: Chapter TwentyHYPOTHESIS: People wh
- Page 347 and 348: In a lie.A lie, after a lot of lies
- Page 349 and 350: Olive closed her eyes and nodded, t
- Page 351 and 352: Cherie’s truck, and she almost la
- Page 353: Wearing expired contact lenses will
- Page 356 and 357: “Good,” he replied with a half
- Page 359 and 360: “Uh . . .” Adam’s frown deepe
- Page 361 and 362: “It will be horrific—”A throa
- Page 363 and 364: seventeen databases and built machi
- Page 365 and 366: When given a choice between A (tell
- Page 367 and 368: else to do it?’ I think my cookie
- Page 369 and 370: You can fall in love: someone will
- Page 371 and 372: faint yellow lights. “And I’d b
- Page 373 and 374: “No,” she repeated, pensive.
- Page 375 and 376: “I think that somewhere along the
- Page 378 and 379: He rolled his eyes. “What’s you
- Page 380 and 381: Author’s NoteI write stories set
- Page 382 and 383: AcknowledgmentsFirst, just allow me
- Page 384 and 385: Don’t missLove on the Braincoming
- Page 386: shrooms they just purchased from a
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Adam wrote it off as some
odd personality quirk of Holden’s, but—”
“Hey. My man’s personality is perfect.”
“Maybe there is something else?”
Anh nodded energetically. “Malcolm, where can Olive find
Holden right this minute?”
“I don’t know. But”—he tapped his phone with a smug
smile—“I happen to have his number right here.”
—
HOLDEN (OR HOLDEN BubbleButt, as Malcolm had saved him in
his contacts) was just finishing up his talk. Olive caught the
last five minutes of it—something about crystallography she
neither understood nor wanted to—and was totally unsurprised
by how smooth and charismatic a speaker he was. She
approached him on the podium once he was done answering
questions, and he smiled when he noticed her walk up the
stairs, seeming genuinely happy to see her.
“Olive. My new roommate-in-law!”
“Right. Yes. Um, great talk.” She ordered herself to stop
wringing her hands. “I wanted to ask you a question . . .”
“Is it about the nucleic acids in the fourth slide? Because I
totally BS’d my way through them. My Ph.D. student made
the figure, and she’s way smarter than me.”
“No. The question is about Adam—”
Holden’s expression brightened.
“Well, actually, it’s about Tom Benton.”
It darkened just as quickly. “What about Tom?”
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