The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

He still wasn’t looking at Tom. And not at Olive, either. He
was staring down at her phone, something dark and dangerous
and frighteningly still in his expression. She should have
probably been scared. Maybe she was, a little.
“—you’re telling me you thought your pitiful abstract was
selected for a talk because of its quality and scientific
importance? Someone here has a very high opinion of herself,
considering that her research is useless and derivative and
that she can barely put together two words without stuttering
like an idiot—”
“It was him,” Adam whispered. His voice was low, barely a
whisper, deceptively calm. His eyes, unreadable. “It was Tom.
The reason you were crying.”
Olive could only nod. In the background, Tom’s recorded
voice droned on and on. Talking about how mediocre she was.
How Adam would never believe her. Calling her names.
“This is ridiculous.” Tom was coming closer again,
reattempting to take the phone away. “I’m not sure what this
bitch’s problem is, but she’s clearly—”
Adam exploded so fast, she didn’t even see him move. One
moment he stood in front of her, and the next he was pinning
Tom against the wall.
“I’m going to kill you,” he gritted out, little more than a
growl. “If you say another word about the woman I love, if
you look at her, if you even think about her—I’m going to
fucking kill you.”
“Adam—” Tom choked out.
“Actually, I will kill you anyway.”
People were running toward them. The hostess, a waiter, a
few faculty members from Adam’s table. They were forming a
crowd, yelling in confusion and trying to pull Adam off Tom
—with no success. Olive’s mind went to Adam pushing