The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

“Yes. Yes. Everything is great. Anh and I were just . . .
chatting. About our weekends.”
Carlsen looked at Anh, as though realizing for the first time
that she was in the room. He acknowledged her existence with
one of those brief nods dudes used to greet others. His hand
slid lower on Olive’s spine just as Anh’s eyes widened.
“Nice to meet you, Anh. I’ve heard a lot about you,”
Carlsen said, and he was good at this, Olive had to admit.
Because she was sure that from Anh’s angle it looked like he
was groping her, but in fact he was . . . not. Olive could barely
feel his hand on her.
Just a little, maybe. The warmth, and the slight pressure,
and—
“Nice to meet you, too.” Anh looked thunderstruck. Like
she might pass out. “Um, I was just about to leave. Ol, I’m
going to text you when . . . yeah.”
She was out of the room before Olive could answer. Which
was good, because Olive didn’t need to come up with more
lies. But also slightly less good, because now it was just her
and Carlsen. Standing way too close. Olive would have paid
good money to say that she was the one to put some distance
between them, but the embarrassing truth was that it was
Carlsen who stepped away first. Enough to give her the space
she needed, and then some.
“Is everything okay?” he asked again. His tone was still
soft. Not something she would have expected from him.
“Yes. Yes, I just . . .” Olive waved her hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Did you hear what she said? About Friday and . . .”
“I did. That’s why I . . .” He looked at her, and then at his
hand—the one that had been warming her back a few seconds