The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

extinction of the Caribbean monk seal. And you”—he pointed
his finger at Holden—“are on thin ice.”
“What—why?”
“I can’t date someone who doesn’t respect my stance on
pumpkin spice.”
“To be fair it’s not a very respectable stance—” Holden
noticed Malcolm’s glare and lifted his hands defensively. “I
had no idea, babe.”
“You should have.”
Adam clucked his tongue, amused. “Yes, Holden. Do
better.” He leaned back in his seat, and his shoulder brushed
against Olive’s. Holden gave him the finger.
“Adam knows and respects Olive’s stance on hamburgers,
and they’re not even—” Whatever Malcolm had been about to
say, he had the sense to stop himself. “Well, if Adam knows,
you should know about the pumpkin spice.”
“Wasn’t Adam a dick until, like, twelve seconds ago?”
“How the turntables,” Adam murmured. Olive reached out
to pinch him on the side, but he stopped her with a hand
around her wrist.
Evil, she mouthed at him. He just smiled, evilly, studying
Malcolm and Holden a little too gleefully.
“Come on. It’s not even comparable,” Holden was saying.
“Olive and Adam have been together for years. We met less
than a week ago.”
“They have not,” Malcolm corrected him, wagging a
finger. Adam’s hand was still curled around her wrist. “They
started dating, like, a month before we did.”
“No,” Holden insisted. “Adam was into her for ages. He
probably secretly studied her eating habits and compiled