The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

“But what about your suitcase?”
“It’s not heavy, and I—” She stopped abruptly, worried her
lip for a second while she contemplated the possibilities, and
then felt herself smile, at once tentative and purposeful.
“Actually, Adam will walk me home. Right?”
He was silent and inscrutable for a moment. Then he
calmly said, “Of course,” slipped his keys in the pocket of his
jeans, and slid the strap of Olive’s duffel bag over his shoulder.
“Where do you live?” he asked when Holden was not
within earshot anymore.
She pointed silently. “You sure you want to carry my bag? I
heard it’s easy to throw out your back, once you reach a
certain age.”
He glared at her, and Olive laughed, falling into step with
him as they headed out of the parking lot. The street was
silent, except for the soles of her Converse catching on the wet
concrete and Malcolm’s car passing them by a few seconds
later.
“Hey,” Holden asked from the passenger window. “What
did Adam’s fortune cookie say?”
“Mmm.” Olive made a show to look at the strip. “Not
much. Just ‘Holden Rodrigues, Ph.D., is a loser.’ ” Malcolm
sped up just as Holden flipped her off, making her burst into
laughter.
“What does it really say?” Adam asked when they were
finally alone.
Olive handed him the crumpled paper and remained silent
as he angled it to read it in the lamplight. She wasn’t surprised
when she saw a muscle jump in his jaw, or when he slid the
fortune into the pocket of his jeans. She knew what it said,
after all.