The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

his decision with the truth at his disposal. She figured her plan
might work.
She had not figured that Adam would notice her while in
conversation with a young, beautiful faculty member. She had
not figured that he’d suddenly stop speaking, eyes widening
and lips parting; that he’d mutter “Excuse me” while staring at
Olive and stand from the table, ignoring the curious looks in
his direction; that he’d march to the entrance, where Olive
was, with quick, long strides and a concerned expression.
“Olive, are you okay?” he asked her, and—
Oh. His voice. And his eyes. And the way his hands came
up, as if to touch her, to make sure that she was intact and
really there—though right before his fingers could close
around her biceps he hesitated and let them fall back to his
sides.
It broke her heart a little.
“I’m fine.” She attempted a smile. “I . . . I’m sorry to
interrupt this. I know it’s important, that you want to move to
Boston, and—this is inappropriate. But it’s now or never, and I
wasn’t sure if I’d have the courage to . . .” She was rambling.
So she took a deep breath and started again. “I need to tell you
something. Something that happened. With—”
“Hey, Olive.”
Tom. But of course. “Hi, Tom.” Olive held Adam’s gaze
and didn’t look at him. He did not deserve to be looked at.
“Can you give us a minute of privacy?”
She could see his oily, fake smile with the corner of her
eye. “Olive, I know you’re young and don’t know how these
things work, but Adam’s here to interview for a very important
position, and he can’t just—”
“Leave,” Adam ordered, voice low and cold.