The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

Right. What about Tom, precisely? Olive wasn’t quite sure
how to approach the topic. She wasn’t even sure what she
meant to ask. Sure, she could have barfed up her entire life
story for Holden and begged him to fix this mess for her, but
somehow it didn’t seem like a good idea. She racked her brain
for a moment, and then landed on: “Did you know that Adam
is thinking about moving to Boston?”
“Yeah.” Holden rolled his eyes and pointed at the tall
windows. There were large, ominous clouds threatening to
explode with torrential rain. The wind, already chilly in
September, was shaking a lonely hickory tree. “Who wouldn’t
want to move here from California?” he scoffed.
Olive liked the idea of seasons, but she kept the thought to
herself. “Do you think . . . Do you think he’d be happy here?”
Holden studied her intensely for a minute. “You know, you
were already my favorite girlfriend of Adam’s—not that there
were many; you’re the only woman who could compete with
computational modeling in about a decade—but that question
wins you a lifelong number-one plaque.” He pondered the
matter for a minute. “I think Adam could be happy here—in
his 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 to
pry, 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 I
don’t. It’s more that I don’t trust him.”
“Why, though? Adam told me about the things Tom did for
him when your adviser was abusive.”