The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

work on pancreatic cancer is fascinating, and I would welcome
Your
opportunity for a collaboration. We should set up a Zoom
the
Olive gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand, and
immediately opened another email.
Today, 3:19 p.m.
FROM: Robert-Gordon@umn.edu
TO: Aysegul-Aslan@stanford.edu, Olive-Smith@stanford.edu
SUBJECT: Pancreatic Cancer Project
Dr. Aslan, Ms. Smith,
meeting.
-R
There were two more emails. Four total from cancer
researchers, all following up on Dr. Aslan’s introductory
message and saying they’d love having Olive in their labs. She
felt a surge of happiness so violent, it almost made her dizzy.
“Ol, look who I ran into.”
Olive shot up to her feet. Malcolm was there, holding
Holden’s hand, and barely a step behind them—
Adam. Looking tired, and handsome, and as large in real
life as he’d been in her mind for the past twenty-four hours.
Looking straight at her. Olive recalled the words he’d said last
night in the restaurant and felt her cheeks heat, her chest
constrict, her heart beat out of her skin.
“Hear me out,” Holden started without even saying hi, “the
four of us: double date. Tonight.”
Adam ignored him and came to stand next Olive. “How are
you?” he asked in a low tone.
“Good.” For the first time in days, it wasn’t even a lie.
Adam was here. And all those emails were in her inbox.
“You?”